Bring the Rain
by Mischievously-Emo-Leggy
Summary: When Scorpia attack his school, Alex finds his two lives falling apart around him. Soon Alex finds himself being shipped back off to Brecon Beacons for more training, only he's not going alone. HIATUS- due to personal problems, might be a few weeks.
1. Expulsion or Blackmail?

A/N - Full Summary: What happens when Alex's latest brush with death ends up hitting a little too close to home? When Scorpia attack his school, Alex finds his two lives falling apart around him. He has to rely upon old friends, and even old enemies, to keep his school safe and rescue his best friend. Soon Alex finds himself being shipped back off to Brecon Beacons for more training, only he's not going alone. He's bringing his whole class with him. In an adventure filled with pain, hurt and confusion, the life of MI6's youngest spy goes from bad to worse as time, and luck, slowly run out for the infamous Alex Rider. Set three years and three weeks after Crocodile Tears (Roughly). Rated M, mainly for the use of language, violence, torture and sexual occurrences. SLASH.

Extra information: Alex is aged 18, so therefore ANY of the Slash pairings that are possible will not break any laws etc. Wolf is 28, Snake is 31, Eagle is 24, Fox is 26, Cheetah is 24 and Yassen is 32. Jack is already dead in this fic, 'cause I basically find her a little annoying, no offense to any Jack lovers out there *^.^'*. If you do read the following rambling chapter and like it, please, please, please! Review! I'd even appreciate flames etc... Wait; did I really just say that? Never mind. Anyway, if and when you do review (I'll hunt you down with my amazing ninja skills otherwise Hwah!) I would really like an opinion on who you would like to see Alex eventually end up with. The options are AlexXWolf, AlexXYassen, AlexXEagle, or AlexXFox. (If there is a massive tie or not enough votes, I'll either resort to writing a version for each pairing, or just picking one at random, which will annoy me greatly: P)There will be no TomXAlex pairing, due to some plot twists I'm shoving in for good measure: P Anyways, onto the disclaimer.

Disclaimer: Me: As much as this pains me to say this, no, I do not own Alex, the hot teenage spy, nor do I own the adorable K-Unit, or the sexy Yassen. I don't really own anyone mentioned that are also mentioned in the books. Any OC's you hear/see are mine, so n'ya, take that Anthony Horowitz! I'll get Alex eventually.

Alex: Does anyone else see a raving fan-girl rambling on about illegally possessing us? Or is it just me? *K-Unit nod, Yassen raises an eyebrow in that annoying way he does* Okay, good, I thought I was losing it for a second there.

(This is a re-edit of the first Chapter, sorry to annoy any of you! There were some problems which I admit to and apologise for to the affected party. Thank you for being patient and re-reading (if you are indeed re-reading) this Chapter!)

-AR-

Chapter one (Expulsion or Blackmail?)

The large canopy of the Peruvian forest around the grounds made prefect cover as a figure, clad in green camouflage limped and stumbled its way across the darkening compound. The man, or rather, the boy paused as a pair of guards passed, guns hung loosely at their hips. Large mastiffs followed silently beside their masters, noses eagerly sniffing the air. The figure held his breath, silently praying the dogs wouldn't be able to smell him, what with the dense undergrowth that surrounded him. He let out a sigh of relief, watching as they made their way round a corner, and moved on, making his way towards the cliff edge. Alex Rider, eighteen year old MI6 agent, tapped his ear-piece, immediately opening up a comm.-link to his partner.

"_Ben? Ben, if you can hear me, get your ass over here pronto." _

Alex glanced around, but so far, his escape seemed to have gone unnoticed. It wouldn't be long now, Dr. Three's top apprentice would be returning soon for Alex's next round of torture. The boy shuddered lightly, and turned back to face the sheer drop before him. He jumped a little when the communicator buzzed and he heard Ben's reply, _"Alex? Thank God you're okay kid. I'm on my way; give me about a minute, what's your current position?" _ Alex struggled to think, which side of the compound was he on again? Thinking was becoming difficult, but severe blood loss would do that to you.

"_I'd say about two klicks from the main compound, north East, at the cliff edge."_

His left side was beginning to go numb, and standing on his mangled foot didn't help matters. The cuts and burns that littered his body stung as the wind picked up and blew through his shredded tee. Alex tried to quieten his laboured breathing, straining to hear the low thrum of a helicopter motor. A few seconds later, the military issue copter emerged from below the cliff edge and Alex yanked open the heavy steel door. He hauled himself jerkily into the small cargo bay, coughing as his chest throbbed with a painful intensity. He slumped back onto the boxes and sheets that littered the floor and focused on breathing for a few seconds. His golden hair, now limp and bloodied from weeks without a proper wash, fell into his dark brown eyes, currently screwed up in pain.

When he realised they still weren't moving Alex lost what little patience he had, and hauled himself up a little and practically growled at the pilot, "For fuck's sake Ben, get us out of here! What are you waiting for, a fat lady to start singing?"

They didn't have time for hesitation; his captors would soon be after them. Flood lights suddenly came to life on the grounds, illuminating their helicopter perfectly against the night sky. He cursed silently, his luck always found a way of back-firing on him. The past three months had seen Alex locked in a small cell, fed only every two or three days and tortured at least twice a day for information in between. Scorpia never forgave, Scorpia never forgot. They'd been after him since that hot air balloon incident three years ago, which was understandable seeing as, at the age of fourteen, he'd dealt them a humiliating blow. The most recent bout of torture had been the worst, they'd obviously been getting bored by his lack of speech (or his irritating knack to come up with a witty response to anything), he'd been electrocuted, whipped until his back was severely lacerated and sore, and cutting until he felt ready to pass out from the blood loss. Alex was shaken from his flashback by a burst of gunfire, the bullets clanging against the helicopter's side, breaking the front wind-screen.

"Ben!"

His co-worker, Agent Ben Daniels, or as he was also known, Fox, merely grunted, turning the copter's heavy wheel and gunning the engine (1). The adrenaline pumping through his system could only last so long, and Alex could already see a darkness creeping across his vision. He had minutes left before he would pass out, and that would definitely be a bad thing. The teen fumbled for his watch, activating the hundreds of pounds of C4 he'd managed to plant before his capture. Through the fog that steadily surrounded his mind, Alex watched with a detached expression as the large compound behind their steadily retreating figures burst into flames with a resounding crack. Alex felt his eyes begin to close, his eye-lids becoming increasingly heavy as he tried to fight off unconsciousness. _Yet another successful mission for the infamous Alex Rider..._ He managed to think before he finally gave up, and let the blackness claim him.

-AR-

_Mr Grinn stood opposite him, knives twirling around his finger...Dr Greif as he explained his plan on dissection for his 'sons'... A great white shark, its eyes oily black and hungry lunging for him in the water... Damien Cray's face as he watched a man slowly suffocate and be crushed by thousands of quarters... Nile's face, lip curled with rage as he launched himself at him, sword swinging... Kaspar as he lunged for him in the Ark Angel, knife glinting in the fake light... flashes of blood, pain, moans and sobbing... Jack's pale face as he found her lifeless body in her bedroom, a single bullet shot to the head..._

Alex sat up, crying out in pain, his breath coming in quick little gasps as his eyes quickly scanned the room for threats. The sterile white walls of a hospital stared back at him and he slumped back against the cot's pillows as his panic subsided. _How paranoid am I? To let a bloody nightmare freak me out like that... They're getting worse... _He made a move to sit himself up and hissed in pain, collapsing back onto the bedding. His back throbbed with every breath, and the still raw gouges and cuts that littered his body stung as he tried again, this time ignoring the pain through sheer determination. He tiredly rubbed a hand over his eyes and reached for his pain medication, popping a pill dry and then glancing around for his clothes. Before he could think about moving, though, the door clicked open and the woman he hated most in the world walked in.

"Good morning Alex, are we feeling any better?" Mrs' Jones, deputy head of MI6 asked around a peppermint. He gave her a withering look and pulled himself up and stiffly walked over to the only chair in the room and sat down.

"How do you bloody think I feel?" He snapped back, wincing as he bent to retrieve his tee and jeans from their position on the floor. The woman inclined her head at the comment, refraining from rising to his bait. She pulled a thin file from her purse and opened it, briefly scanning the pages as if to remind herself of their contents, even though Alex knew that she remembered every detail perfectly.

"Well, Mr. Blunt would like you to report to HQ as soon as you are discharged, which is whenever you feel ready to leave, he is aware of this fact and any attempt to delay the meeting will be in vain. The doctor has said that, given a week or so, your injuries will have healed completely, and he is prescribing you the usual medication and has advised you to stay away from P.E in school for the next few weeks, in order to allow time for your body to properly heal itself. We would like you to come in for debriefing as soon as possible. Agent Daniels, I'm afraid, is still in hospital, but I managed to draft a rough summary of his side of the mission, which we will, of course, update and modify, once checked against yours."

Alex snorted a little, pulling his tee over his head slowly, careful to avoid causing himself more pain, and then frowned, wondering how and when Ben managed to get injured. Dimly he remembered the copter flight back; through his half delirious mind-set he'd seen the blood on Ben's face and the tightness around the man's eye as he struggled to hide the pain. The man had been shot by one of Scorpia's stray bullets. He reverently hoped Ben would pull through. He was the only man, apart from Smithers, in his MI6 life that he really got along with.

"Is that all for now Mrs. Jones? 'Cause I'd really like to get dressed and get the hell out of this place." He sent her a pointed glare, and then looked at his jeans and apparent lack of clothing. The woman didn't even look embarrassed, and he dimly recalled that she had a son or two at home, so therefore found nothing in the room remotely embarrassing, and she nodded in confirmation to his question. She turned on her ridiculously high heels and stepped out of his room, closing the door behind her with an almost silent click.

Alex sighed, and then hissed, as he pulled on his black jeans and trainers, the motion of bending over stretching his still healing whip marks. He hoped none of them re-opened, or started bleeding again, this was his favourite tee. He picked up his small backpack from the table and left quietly, walking straight past the front desk and out into the fresh air.

He glanced around and felt slightly disappointed, but not surprised, that MI6 had not sent a car to pick him up.

He shook his head and hailed down a cab, sliding in and slamming the door behind him. He looked up at the cabbie and gave the address for the Royal and General Bank in East London, he may as well get the debriefing over with, and then sat back and watched the city roll by as the car made its steady way through the busy London traffic. Ever since he'd come home from the mission in Peru, Alex had been attacked with thoughts of Jack's death, among other things, and he again wished that this whole mess with MI6 had never happened. Caught up in his own thoughts, Alex didn't realise they were there until the cabbie impatiently cleared his throat and held out a hand for the twenty pound fare.

Grumbling, Alex climbed out after handing over the only money he had on him, shooting the cab a last glare, before turning and heading into the MI6 Head Quarters, home of every person (minus Scorpia, Ben and Smithers) that he hated in the world. The receptionist greeted him cheerfully, obviously new, anyone who'd been in this line of work soon gave up any attempts at keeping actual human emotions, and directed him to the special elevator for Agents only, and Alex sighed, resting tiredly against the back wall. If only his life wasn't so complicated. The doors opened with a quiet ding, and Alex stepped out, nodding to a few of the passing Agents that recognised him, and headed for the HQ Head office.

"Why Agent Rider, so pleasant to see you again." An emotionless voice said, almost as emotionless as the man that voice belonged to, as he entered the large office. Behind the stupidly large, and surprisingly neat, desk sat Alan Blunt, Head of MI6, an aging man with grey hair, grey eyes, and was usually seen in all grey clothes, including, so he was told, grey underwear. Perched on the desk beside him was Mrs. Jones, dressed in the same suit and skirt he'd seen her in earlier, holding the file from Ben loosely in her hands. He eyed it warily before nodding to Mr. Blunt and seating himself in the only chair before the desk.

"Now Alex, we've already had a short talk with you about the mission, but obviously we need you to submit a full report. Now tell us, how did the mission fare with you?" Alex barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. The mission went like every other bloody mission they'd sent him on since he turned 16 and Jack had died. He'd come back, bruised and broken, but alive, successful and sane from his near death experiences. He settled upon a brief, but detailed recount of his recent success, starting with his and Agent Daniels' extensive week of surveillance they carried out before his capture, the extent of his gained knowledge on the organisation whilst being tortured (Of course, he left no gruesome detail out when that part came up) and finally his escape and the destruction of the Peruvian sector of Scorpia.

"Thank you Alex, now, if you would please take this file concerning an upcoming mission that may, or may not, actually concern you, and then you may leave." Knowing an obvious dismissal when he heard one, Alex took the file, slipping it into his backpack, and left the office, leaving behind the grey Alan Blunt and his peppermint sucking fiend, I mean, friend. While waiting for an arranged car to drive him home, Alex quickly skimmed the report, rolling his eyes when he found it to be a routine drug busting mission. He really hated those; they were the most irritating and by far the easiest type to be sent on, which made him grind his teeth. If their using him for missions like this, why the hell was he sent on Scorpia related ones? A man tapped him lightly on the shoulder, dressed in the black and white suit Alex now registered automatically as 'MI6 Agent' and stood, following him to the, as usual, black car that waited outside, climbed in, and took a short nap as he waited for them to reach the rather empty and lonely home in Chelsea.

-AR-

The next morning, Alex's alarm went off at five thirty, and the teen rolled out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom for his daily shower. Alex's line of work had trained him to sleep lightly, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice, and conditioned him to perform in top form with little or no sleep, which was something that came in handy on several of his more dangerous and long-term missions. He turned the water to its hottest temperature, restraining the wince as the water came into contact with his freshly applied bandages, and let his muscles relax under the powerful jets, before stepping out and roughly towel drying his hair. He yanked on his usual attire, a light, bullet proof vest, a black tee, cargo pants and combat boots. Pushing stray strands of hair from his eyes, Alex retrieved his knives and gun from the top drawer and fastened them to his holders. One wrapped snugly around his left calf, twin holders on his back, and a simple chest strap for his gun, all under his clothes, undetectable, even by the trained eye, of course. His clearance only licensed him to carry concealed after all. Tugging on his dark blue windbreaker, strapped his MI6 issue watch to his left wrist, and fished his keys out of the bowl by the door, grabbing an apple from the kitchen along the way. As he stepped out into the warm spring air, Alex inhaled deeply, enjoying the warm currents of air moving lazily around him, stirring his fair locks lightly.

"Wow, it's actually sunny... and I'm still in England." Alex chuckled to himself as he slipped into his kitted out Jeep Wrangler, sports edition (2). He quickly stowed the ammunition he kept in his car into the various pockets and holders on his person, and checked his iPhone for any messages. Of course, there were the usual from Sabina, asking how he was, and how she missed him in America, and even one from Ben, who'd thought to tell Alex he was fine and recovering well. The messages from Tom on the other hand were downright hilarious. The teen sat in his car, laughing (a rarity for the troubled teen) for a solid two minutes, before calming, and starting the ignition. He pulled out of the drive and made his way slowly to his school.

Brookland Comprehensive School was like most others in London, apart from a certain special student, with large grounds, blocky and frankly ugly buildings and of course, kids. Lots of kids. Luckily, it was the first day of term after Spring break, so none of the students paid him any mind as he parked in his usual spot, throwing on a pair of sunglasses as he opened the door. He tried to block out the mindless gossip of those around him as he quickly assessed the crowded tarmac for any possible threats. He rolled his eyes as he, rather unintentionally, overheard a conversation about what certain group of girls had done over the holidays (or in some cases, _who_ they'd done). He shook his head, trying to shake the disturbing mental images that assaulted his mind, and Alex made for the main entrance. He was almost there when an arm wrapped around his shoulders and he felt himself being pulled down to face a grinning, black haired and blue eyed teen. Smirking very faintly, Alex removed his sunglasses and slipped them into a pocket before answering the excited teen next to him.

"Glad to see at least one person missed me over the holidays" Alex's voice dripped heavily with sarcasm, but Tom Harris merely chuckled at his friend and planted a quick, but firm kiss (3) to Alex's lips, which Alex happily returned, before rolling his eyes and replying cheerfully, "Well, someone obviously ninja rolled out of the wrong side of the bed this morning." Tom's eyes twinkled with mischief as Alex sighed and shook his head, deciding to refrain from answering the childish comment.

They manoeuvred their way through the increasingly crowded corridors, and made it to their shared homeroom with little over a minute to spare, but their teacher was always late anyway, so they needn't have worried. Tom released his hold on Alex as they sat next to each other at the back, but he did lift his legs to place them in Alex's lap with a sly grin. Alex raised an eyebrow, but didn't move to remove the legs, instead turning to catch, and then ignore, the pointed stares and whispered conversations that were obviously aimed at him.

As everyone slowly settled down, and the homeroom bell sounded, Alex found himself already bored with the whole novelty that meant school, wishing the day would just hurry up and end already. Whispers started around the room once the teacher had entered, taking a quick, and rather useless, head count, before, once again, Alex felt himself become the centre of all the stares and comments.

"Hey look Jess, Druggie's back, sitting with that freaky kid Harris again. Wonder what he did this time, maybe went to jail"

"OMG it's that freak, why doesn't he just stay home?"

"Maybe he can't, because he has no home, well, at least, no home since he killed that guardian of his."

Alex felt his fists clench of their own accord as he struggled to keep his emotions in check, and ignore the insensitive gossip. Tom put a comforting hand on Alex's arm, in a soothing manner, and he soon felt relaxed again, turning to give his friend a grateful smile.

First Advanced Maths and then Spanish class passed without any incident, mainly because they were Alex's favourite subjects and both teachers adored him for his natural grasp of the subjects. Alex was given the work he needed to catch up on, which he managed during the half hour free time he had between lunch and morning lessons, though the constant stares were starting to get annoying again. By the time lunch came around, he was ready to snap, he'd had enough of the insensitive and immature people he called his peers. He was swearing under his breath in French, German, Spanish, Japanese, Russian, English and Italian, when Dylan Creswell walked over, a cruel sneer curling his thin lips. Tom was, thankfully, nowhere to be seen, and Alex was certain this couldn't end well. He tilted his head to glance over his shoulder, and then turned back to his lunch; _I'm really not in the mood to deal with these people._ Dylan frowned; obviously annoyed at the lack of movement, and heavily set a hand onto Alex's shoulder.

"Hey Druggie, where's your boyfriend? Getting it off with some other skank behind the bike shed?" Alex snorted to himself, _is that really the best bullies nowadays can come up with? _He said nothing to the other teen, trying to finish his lunch, much to Dylan's irritation. He was looking for a fight, but Alex was determined not to rise to the bait. He didn't need anything else for the teachers and students here to find wrong with him. If Dylan had been as good at reading people as Alex, he'd have noticed the tense way he held his shoulders. Sensing that his first bout of insult did absolutely nothing, Dylan changed tactics, yanking Alex up from his seat, causing him to silently hiss in pain as he felt his back twinge, the boy's fingers digging into his partially healed brand. This boy was really getting on Alex's nerves, and he, again, felt his fists clenching.

"Rider, you look at me and answer when I ask you a question, got that? Now, what did you do this time, get sent to jail for shooting up again?" Alex just stared at him emotionlessly. "I said, what did you do?" Dylan snarled into his face. When Alex still didn't respond, Dylan went for his last blow, and said something he really shouldn't say, especially seeing as he was holding an already pissed off Alex in his grip. "Or maybe you can't tell us, and murdered another guardian, like you did with that American chick a year ago." He never even saw the hit coming before it smashed full force into his cheek.

Alex suddenly went limp in Dylan's hold, causing the other teen to drop him, which gave Alex the perfect opportunity to drop to the floor and windmill his leg, catching Dylan across the knee with a crack and causing him to fall over. Dylan's head impacted against the floor with a sickening crunch, and silence enfolded the canteen as everyone just stared at Alex. Taking advantage of the sudden shock, he checked Dylan over for any lasting damage, and found none, to his immense relief. He swore again, this time in Russian, as images of Jack assaulted his mind again, and he kicked Dylan in the gut, rather childishly, and then rose from his defensive crouch to face the whispers aimed at him. His emotionless mask slid on again as teachers arrived to 'apprehend' Alex and Dylan, though Dylan had to be carried out on a stretcher. Alex let the teachers feel like they were in control as they headed towards Mr. Bray's office and Alex was sat in front of the simple wooden desk to face the Headmaster.

Mr. Bray, a kind faced man with streaks of grey in his otherwise black hair, eyed the teen before him over the edge of his 'old man glasses'. The Headmaster had spent the past fifteen years of his life keeping his students out of trouble, disciplining the ones who cause any, and trying to work through the mountains of paperwork that came with running a comprehensive school. He never judged the students brought to him, only listened patiently to their excuses, humming and ahhing, until deciding upon the best way to teach them a valuable lesson. He expected that from Alex Rider, but the teen had always been a little bit of a puzzle.

After the teen's uncle had passed away a little over four years ago, Alex had begun to withdraw from the social circles he was once the lead of. The absences had seen to that. Within a year, Alex had disappeared over nine times; each separated by a month or two at the most, and had even ended up in hospital. The letters his guardian, (Jane? Jack?), had written were obviously lies. No one believed the excuses, and many of the student body made up their own rumours. Drugs, gangs, prison. All preposterous. Nonetheless, Mr. Bray thought as he took note of the three earrings in the teen's right ear, the hint of muscle under the tee, they had reason to be so extreme. Alex radiated danger and an air that just demanded respect from everyone.

As the Headmaster continued his inspection, Alex just sat, waiting patiently for the older man to speak. He knew denying anything would be ridiculous, and admitting would save him time better spent doing coursework. A small part of him was feeling lighter, freer, after the act of violence, but Alex quickly smothered it. Feeling's like that killed people. Guessing he had another minute or two of silent reflection, Alex turned his thoughts towards MI6. They'd know, of course, that he had assaulted a teenager, and would demand to see him. The teen himself, needed someone to come down and sort the paperwork details of the 'incident' out.

Mr. Bray cleared his throat, and then sighed very faintly as he leant back in his leather armchair.

"You know, obviously, why you are here Alex? Good. This sort of behaviour is _not_ acceptable. Injuring another student, on purpose, is rights enough to expel you." He sat forward, trying to catch Alex's gaze, knowing eye contact went a long way to hammering the point home in teenagers. It also made them feel inferior for a short amount of time. Alex was clearly not making eye contact, staring at anything but his eyes.

"There are several forms I will need to fill out for this, including some your guardian will have to sign. The school filing system has gone a little... haywire, so I don't have your contact details on me. Could you tell me your home number? I must get your guardian in here Alex." This time, Alex did meet his eyes, locking onto them with an intense stare. Henry Bray, for the first time in his life, cowed under the emptiness he saw in the chocolate brown eyes of the eighteen year old before him. The stare lasted only seconds, but it was enough to distract the Headmaster from his once determined mind set.

Cold eyes. Soldiers eyes, eyes that had seen much too much for their age. Bray recalled murmurs from the other teachers over the years, describing the sudden lack of will they had under that blank, yet severe and steady gaze. When the teen looked down again, Mr. Bray shook his head to clear it, feeling slightly inferior himself compared to the intimidating teen.

"Of course Sir. May I ask, if it's not too much trouble, can I ring them? My guardian can be quite forceful and I'd rather they didn't make a scene when they arrived." The man could only nod, his mind still muddled. Alex smiled ever so slightly, pleased that he'd had minimal effort in calling MI6. He slipped out his iPhone; speed dialling the number marked 'emergency', and waited as the tone began. Mere seconds later, he heard the rustle of static as an overly chirpy voice called down the line.

"_Alan Blunt's office, how may I be of assistance?_" God he hated the over enthusiastic types, they made his eye twitch.

"Yeah, hey it's me, Alex. Oh, you're in the middle of cleaning?" Alex had memorized the script in a matter of days. He'd learnt every phrase and pause and inflection of tone that signalled his condition without revealing anything to anyone listening. He smiled very faintly at the pause, and then heard the click as it went straight to Mrs. Jones.

"_Agent Rider. To what do we owe this call? The beating of another teenager perhaps?_" The teen ground his teeth angrily, knowing full well that she was already informed of the fight and why he was calling. Irritating woman.

"Well... I need you to come to school. Yes now! Where? Oh, I'm in the Headmaster's office."

"_You want me to send over an Agent to act as your guardian? I'll see who's available and send them out. I have to say, I'm disappointed in you Alex._" He ignored the last bit, breaking into a nervous grimace for Mr. Bray's benefit.

"Okay, okay. I can't tell you now, but just come in alright? Fifteen minutes? Okay, see you."

Alex turned the phone off, subtly slipping it back into his pocket, and then looked up to face his Headmaster. The man was frowning slightly, obviously berating himself over letting Alex ring home. Alex suspected his actions weren't the only thing Bray wanted to talk about, and resigned himself to his fate as the older male removed his glasses, setting them down on the desk in front. Mr. Bray pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing he may as well get the other concerns out of the way on the fifteen minutes they had.

"Now Alex, I must admit that your... actions are not the only reason I have asked you to call your guardian. Other than the apology I expect you to right to Dylan and his parents, I'm concerned about these disappearances of yours. They themselves are grounds enough to expel you as well, though you put me in a rather difficult position." The man looked even more uncomfortable as he shifted in his chair, before continuing.

"Your academic achievements are outstanding. All of your teachers have said that, when there, you are top of every class, handling the material with great ease. You had A*s on almost all of your GCSE's, and remarkable results in the AS levels last May. I'm afraid, though, that the disappearances will deter any universities you wish to enter. Even if you don't go on to study at a University, finding a job at this age with no qualifying degrees will be almost impossible." Alex had to hold in the snort he felt rise at the mention of jobs.

He was rather touched that Mr. Bray cared enough to actually discuss this with him to his face, and not to a 'guardian' behind his back. Though, his concerns were rather moot. Alex had, in fact, taken several courses outside of school time, in many different areas. Most of them, he had already finished, earning several high level degrees already. The teen didn't need t tell Mr. Bray that, Alex just did whatever he felt like doing in his free time, whether that be working out or training, or going to late night Uni courses. Of course, Alex couldn't' tell his Headmaster that, and so nodded meekly like a good little student.

"Is there anything else wrong Sir?" Alex mentally wished there was, just to stretch out the next three minutes until his 'guardian' arrived to help save him.

Alas, Alex never had that kind of luck. The silence built in the small office around them as Alex stared at a piece of wall opposite him and the Headmaster began shuffling paper around his desk, which he'd already organised beforehand, obviously still a little out of it. Silence was something Alex rarely found, but it made him tense up all the same. There was no birdsong. No laughing or yelling. Nothing. Just the sound of his own heart beating and the huffed breaths of his Headmaster. It left Alex with the time to fret over his lapse in control.

He'd learnt from the best, and yet he'd lost it and beaten Dylan to the ground in a matter of seconds. _They'd_ taught him to never let anger build up, it causes mistakes. God did Alex know that now. He was angry at himself, and angry at his life, and he was especially angry at MI6. They'd never sent him to therapy for his rather distressful time with... _the organisation_. Help was something Alex Rider always got a little too late to be any use.

Approaching footsteps shook both men from their silent contemplations, heads turning towards the office door as two low voices, both female, slowly grew discernable. At least they'd bothered to get a female agent this time, and not a man. God knows how he'd have been able to explain that. Alex turned back to face his Headmaster, crossing his arms over his chest in an effort to appear uncomfortable, like any other teenager would be if their guardian had been called in. The door opened to admit both females, one being the school's kind-hearted secretary, the other a slightly wary looking blonde obviously meant to be his 'guardian'.

"Here you go, miss. Starbright, this is Mr. Bray's office. Call me if you need anything at all dear." Miss Bedfordshire shot Alex a small smile as the door closed. Alex attempted a smile at the agent, annoyed when he received only a scowl back. The blonde haired woman seated herself with all the grace of an MI6 agent, and sent a bored look to Mr. Bray.

"What's he done this time? Blown up part of the school or something?" Alex hoped the agent was just improvising, and hadn't been told by MI6 he actually _had_ blown up the science building.

Mr. Bray was looking slightly off-put, but shook his head and regained his composure to answer her, "No Miss... Starbright was it? Yes well. I'm afraid Alex here was caught beating a fellow student to the ground after an argument. While this is obviously a big concern, I'd rather get the paperwork over and done with now. Would you mind signing a few forms? Here's a pen."

For the next ten minutes, the woman signed every [piece of paper the Headmaster showed her, pen scribbling quickly over the twelve disciplinary forms. Alex sighed, leaning back in his chair for a few minutes of meditation while they finished off and talked amiably about this and that. Parents and teachers often spent hours talking about this and that. Sometimes Alex really wished he could complain about that like his friends.

Twenty minutes later saw Alex stepping out into the parking lot, the blonde right on his heels. They said nothing to each other, for which Alex was grateful. He really didn't feel like dealing with MI6 types. His Jeep sat innocently in his parking space, and Alex nodded a goodbye to the silent agent as she slid into her black BMW and sped off, without so much as a backwards glance. The teen spy sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as a bone weary tiredness settled over him. All he wanted now was to get home and relax. Or relax as much as the eighteen year could.

He silently reflected that his life couldn't get any worse, and at least his secret hadn't needed to be revealed. Anyone could know moves like he did to take Dylan out, and it was no big deal. No stitches or internal bleeding or broken bones. Nothing else could go wrong... could it?

-AR-

A/N *ducks the flying objects* Sorry if any of that annoys you! The first chapter isn't supposed to be interesting xD

(1) – So don't know if you can actually 'gun' a helicopter engine, just felt like it needed to be said. (Found out you can indeed gun a helicopter :) )

(2) – So don't know if this is a car or not, I just love Jeep Wranglers and thought it suited Alex's dangerous life.

(3) – Tom and Alex are in a sort of relationship. They don't date; I just thought Alex needed someone to help him through the stress now that Jack was dead. (Many of my friends are annoyed with me for making Alex 'gay') lols

PS – I know it's a really long chapter (this took me many a late night to complete), but it gets all the random and necessary information and 'blah' that was getting in the way of the next chapter. The next one's got a lot of action in it, so be prepared!

So to conclude, I'll remind you to review! Even if it's to tell me I've ruined it etc. And you wanna send me flames :P I appreciate anything! AND, when you do review, if you could tell me which Slash pair you want to see, that would really help me to develop the story! The possible pairs again are Yassen and Alex, Wolf and Alex, Eagle and Alex or Fox and Alex. Thanks – Daxy xx


	2. Bloody Kisses

A/N – Again a reminder to review please! And tell me your thoughts on the slash pairing! Anyway, this chapter is rated M for extreme violence, mangling, swearing and heck, I'll throw in some awkward kissing warning in.

(PS – if you find any similarities to LS, just PM me and I'll remove them. I don't think there are any. Thank you)

Daxy.

Now, on with the disclaimer!

Disclaimer: Me: *sigh* Anthony Horowitz still hasn't replied to my e-mail about owning Alex, so therefore, it saddens me to say that I _still_ do not own Alex Rider or any names/places that are associated with the books. *mumbles* Alex will be mine!

Alex: No, I won't. *grins* But by any means, take K-Unit.

Me: Really! *yays and dances around* I've always wanted a group of hot SAS men!

Alex: *snicker* No, I'm kidding *edges away from the angry men and gulps* Oh, hey guys...

-AR-

Chapter 2 (Bloody Kisses)

It wasn't until two Thursdays later, that Alex's two worlds crashed together in the worst way possible.

It had gone like any other Thursday morning in the young Rider's household. Wake up at five 'o'clock sharp, carry out a thirty minute exercise task of either sit-ups or push-ups, in order to keep his body in top condition. Followed closely, of course, by a hot shower to work out any knots the activity will have made. A quick breakfast of Frosties straight after, and then he hastily pulled on his clothes and gear. The whips marks on his back had healed over into thick ropy scars, and the various cuts and bruises had faded, apart from the faint dusting of scars the electrocution and deep lacerations had caused. They were sore and complained at the fast movements, but Alex filed away the dull throbbing for later, this pain, he could handle. He jumped into his Jeep, and set off for school. As soon as he left the driveway, a sick wave coiled in his stomach, the underlying feeling that something just wasn't right, and no matter how much he tried to shake it, the sense of foreboding lingered like a bad dream.

Glancing left and right, Alex only noticed a family climbing into their car, nothing unusual at all to be seen. Unnerved, but determined to move on and deal with it later, Alex sped away, automatically checking for any signs of danger as he went. The feeling increased dramatically the closer he got to school, until Alex was sure something would be happening there, and soon. His instincts had kicked in, and ignoring normally resulted in death for those around him.

A quick movement to his left as he pulled into the school caught his eye, and he frowned, spotting the MI6 SWAT team car a mere 100 metres away. They weren't usually this close, maybe they sensed something too. Shaking his head free of dark thoughts, he jumped down from his car and leant against it, watching the empty tarmac with cold, calculating eyes. Several cars littered the parking lot, but there was definitely something going on. Not a single person in any direction. Checking his watch again, Alex began tapping his feet impatiently; no amount of training had wiped the stubbornness from the teen. It was ten to nine, and there was only five minutes until the other 6th formers had to report for homeroom. So where were they all?

A second later, after walking towards the school building, Alex had an answer. Taped to the front entrance was a small note explaining that all 6th formers were to proceed immediately to the front hall for a quick assembly concerning their A levels. Alex snorted, _well, at least that explains why the cars are here, but the kids aren't._ Suddenly realising he was late for whatever the assembly was about, Alex sighed and made his way to homeroom to wait it out alone.

The uneasy feeling was increasingly worrying, though there was nothing to suggest anything was actually wrong. He took out a note book, making quick notes for lessons he was still catching up, and also for lessons and lectures he was currently taking outside of school. Despite Mr. Bray's worries about academics, Alex actually took several University level courses on almost anything Alex wanted to learn. Ten minutes later, teens slowly entered the room, shooting Alex glares. Tom rushed over and gave Alex a hug before sitting down too.

"Hey Al! You're so lucky; you just missed _the_ most boring assembly ever, lucky bastard! Anyway, doesn't matter. All they wanted to say was that we should make sure to hand in our addresses for over summer so that our results can be forwarded. Why call a massive assembly for something stupid like that? Teachers." Tom said the last word with distaste, as if it was the bane of his existence. When Alex merely nodded at Tom, seemingly staring at the front board, while really scanning everyone as potential threats, without commenting, the black haired teen began to fidget and worry.

"Alex... something wrong?" Hearing the fear in his friend's voice, Alex decided to be vague, but reassuring, wishing to wait until he was sure and wasn't just imagining things.

"I don't know something just feels... a little off. Don't worry too much Tom; it's probably nothing."

"Are you sure nothing... never mind, if it's important, you'd tell me? I know you. When you're out of it like this, it can only mean trouble. I mean, your nickname is 'Trouble Magnet'" Alex sighed at the use of the old nickname, one that Jack had given Alex after his tenth mission for MI6 had followed him home, with an... Amusing outcome. Let's just say that particular messenger _was_ shot. He forced a small smile to placate him, "I just don't know Tom, and I hope nothing happens. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a lecture to be going to." With that he gathered his books for Biology, his least favourite subject. Ever since the incident with Dr. Greif, Alex always sat at the back and pretended to listen when the teacher lectured. Everything about it brought back unwanted and rather sickening memories.

As the day progressed into second period, and then onto his free-time, Alex knew that he wasn't imagining things. He walked the halls, all of his senses on high alert. He wasn't distracted enough that he missed the other student's reactions as he walked past. Everyone moved out of the way, pure hostility radiating from every side. Ever since his first mission was over and he'd returned to school with a battered and bruised body, all of his friends had slowly drifted away, concerned enough by the rumours to betray their friendship. He snorted silently; of course, no one wanted to be close to 'Druggie'. It was ridiculous, how could _anyone_ actually think he was involved with gang crime and drugs, when they should be thinking child abuse, what with his constant bruises and cuts.

The fast approaching 6th form canteen heralded the return of the foreboding with a vengeance. He let a tiny frown crease his forehead, a rare show of emotion for him, and tried to locate any signs signalling an attack. He was so out of it by the time he sat down with his lunch, that he didn't realise Tom was talking until the teen flicked him on the nose out of impatience.

"ALEX! For god's sake you're really starting to freak me out. This time, tell the truth, is there something wrong?" Alex sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, both to give him time to make an excuse and to show Tom how much it was bothering him. He subtly unlatched all of his holsters, and had earlier (during a rather boring part of his Maths lecture) unlocked the safety on his gun. Holding up a hand to Tom, telling him to give him a few seconds to think, he flicked his gaze over the canteen warily.

Him and Tom were sat in the back left corner, on the few sofas the teachers had let the 6th form have. Alex realised that he was half lying on Tom's lap, his shoulders leant up against the armrest, and pushed down the urge to flush. The only exits were the main double doors that lead outside, and a small emergency exit door just behind them. Everyone was busy talking and eating on the assorted tables, blissfully unaware of the approaching danger Alex was sure he felt. Luckily, it was the 6th form only canteen, so at most, there were only forty other kids in the room. Alex turned back to his friend, different words he could say to comfort him flashing through his mind before he just gave up and told the truth.

"I've been having these weird feelings all day, like you constantly poking me in the side, warning me of something, ever since I left the house. I know it's my instincts telling me something dangerous is coming, but of course, it's never that simple. It could mean that something will happen here and now, or it could be a left over feeling from my latest assignment. I really just don't know. All I do know is that if anything's going to happen is going to happen soon." He closed his eyes to concentrate and felt Tom shift a little, before a hand gently ran through his hair. Opening an eye, he just caught Tom's goofy grin before he felt himself relax into the touch, silently thanking Tom for being such a good way calm down, with a light smile. "I'm sorry Al; wish there was something I could do to help you more." Alex opened his mouth to answer when all hell broke loose.

In a style worthy of an action movie, the canteen doors were brutally shoved open and twelve men dressed in black combat gear and face masks filed in, spreading out around the rather confused and frightened teens. The scorpion sigils on the shoulder of each soldier let little doubt in Alex's mind as to who they were and the next intruders wiped his doubts completely away. Once the men were positioned in a rough circle, two more men entered the tense silence the assassins' entrance had made, one dressed in a similar fashion to the previous twelve. The last man, though, made Alex's blood run cold. This man Alex could recognise anywhere. He was dressed in an expensive looking navy suit and shirt, which complimented his deeply tanned skin, this man was far more deadly than all of the 'guards' were put together.

Alex ground his teeth together in frustration, couldn't these guys ever _stop_? It was obvious they were here for him, if the 12 heavily armed men surrounding them was anything to go by. He'd used the distraction of their over the top entrance to hide himself behind his hair and Tom. His friend was looking at him with sad eyes, eyes that told Alex that Tom knew what they meant. Alex gave him a grim look before turning his attention back to The Australian, for that was his name. Scorpia had certainly chosen a bad time to remind him that they never forget and never forgive.

Tom tried to ignore the commotion and concentrate on his friend, who was apparently talking to himself. Leaning a little closer, Tom found that he was whispering furiously into his watch, and realised the teen must be communicating with MI6. It was strange that these men had managed to storm the school. Alex had always told him that MI6 assigned a SWAT team to protect them all, but yet how had all of this happened if that was true. Unless... these men had 'taken care' of the team. Tom gulped audibly and looked back at the men.

The two men had made it to the front of the canteen, and they turned to face the confused teens. No one said anything for a few tense moments, and then Dylan just had to show everyone just how stupid he is. It had been clear that the Australian was about to speak, but he never got the chance before his classmate stood and pointed an angry finger in his direction.

"Who the hell are you to think you can come bursting into a school canteen in the middle of the day? And what do you want from us?" If the situation hadn't been so dangerous, Alex would have rolled his eyes and had a quiet chuckle with Tom, but as it was, all he could do was watch in silent horror at his classmate's audacity. Alex was up and running the second he saw the Australian raise a hand to the masked man next to him, who cocked his gun and shot at Dylan, just as Alex tackled the teen to the ground.

"What the fuck are you doing Rider? Ack, get off me, it hurts!" Alex rolled back into a crouch and pushed away Dylan's flailing hands, inspecting the bullet wound with a trained eye. Luckily, or unluckily, the bullet had only grazed Dylan's shoulder, but the wound was bleeding excessively. Alex tore a thick strip of cloth from his tee and wrapped it tightly around the struggling boy's shoulder, trying to staunch the bleeding as best he could. When he couldn't take the feeble attempts to push him off any longer, Alex snapped.

"Stop fidgeting! I'm trying to help you for fuck's sake. You're lucky it only grazed you, but for your own sake sit back down and shut the hell up. Hopefully you didn't piss them off too much for them to come back later and finish the jo-." A single clap cut Alex's words off, and the teen slowly uncurled from his position on the ground to face the current second-in-command for Scorpia. Alex faintly noticed that all eyes were on him and he silently cursed the crying boy on the floor for his stupidity.

"Well, well Mr. Rider, I am impressed. Not only did you manage to reach the boy in time, but you also saved his life, how compassionate of you. Now though, I wonder what you'll do." The Australian's deep voice echoed across the silence in the canteen, but only Alex could hear the malice and pure hatred in his tone. Alex felt rather than heard Dylan be moved back to the 'safety' of the table, at least that was one less thing he had to worry about. Wanting to keep the opponents attention on him, Alex walked a few small steps towards the two men at the back of the canteen, allowing the usual confident smirk to twist his lips.

"The same thing I always do. Kick your pathetic ass" Alex raised an eyebrow in challenge, while lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet. He knew it was only a matter of time before the Australian grew bored and let his evil henchmen have some fun, but Alex hoped that if he irritated them enough, they'd screw up like they always did. Alex let his attention flicker to the man standing beside the board member and felt the blue eyes boring into him. A little unnerved by the intensity, Alex allowed himself a small shudder, which he covered up with a roll of the shoulders.

"I'd advise you not to aggravate me Rider. Now, would be so kind as to come with us quietly?" Alex snorted, giving the man an incredulous look. "I thought so, never mind then. I'll just have to use plan B" The man produced a small communicator and flicked a small switch. The dark smile he shot Alex did little to reassure him, and as the back doors opened again to admit six men, Alex felt his smirk fall a little.

Three of the men were dressed in identical combat gear, sub-machine guns hung loosely around their shoulders. The other three were uncomfortably familiar to the teen agent, dressed in dirty and bloodied army combats, and small badges indicated their status in the Secret Air Service. Alex watched in silent dread as his old SAS unit were thrown to the floor in front of him. Thankfully, Ben wasn't with them, but Alex clenched his hands into fists and met the superior look in the Australian's eyes.

"Ah, I knew you'd recognise these men. Now, let me ask again. Come with us now, and I will not shoot these SAS soldiers." If the man thought he'd win by simply threatening three of the men that made his life hell, he was sadly mistaken, though Alex didn't want to drag anyone else into their feud. He glanced back at Wolf, Eagle and Snake, and saw them shift slowly. They were drugged, and by the look of things, they'd be no help when it came to a fight, unless Alex could get a remedy to them which would be near impossible.

He shot the Australian a look, "That's the best you can come up with? Really. I'm disappointed in you and the organisation. Seems things have really gone downhill since I last checked" He saw the man's eye twitch and sensed the man approaching from behind and managed to twist round and throw up a block before the assassin's fist struck. The man, not expecting Alex to be so quick, didn't have enough time to produce a block of his own as Alex's open-handed strike caught him across the face. The force of the hit forced the soldier's nose back and into the man's brain, efficiently knocking the man unconscious. As he crumpled to the floor, Alex moved away to face the six men producing pistols. He ducked and rolled, removing a knife from his back.

As he leapt up before one of the soldier, Alex rammed the blade into the man's wrist, forcing him to release the gun, which skidded away under the mass of table and people. Seeing their comrade's failure, the men hastily replaced their weapons, favouring ahand0-t-and combat instead. He ducked under a kick, twisting and ramming his elbow into the man's stomach, effectively winding him, and then tried to form a block before catching a glancing blow to the shoulder from one of the soldiers. He bit back a hiss of pain, and crouched, wind milling his legs to knock several of his opponents to the ground. Two of the three soldiers landed head first with a wet crunch, neither made a move to get up again. Grim faced, Alex turned and used his knife to maim the remaining soldier, lodging the blade into the man's shoulder, and then delivered a fierce uppercut to the chin, leaving that soldier down for the count. He felt the throbbing in his wrist and across his knuckles, already turning raw from the force of the blows they exchanged. A hand caught Alex unaware, knocking his knife away before catching him round the head with a fist. He blinked away the black spots dancing across his vision, and retaliated with a roundhouse kick, sending the man flying into the wall where he stayed.

Alex heard the first shot and automatically ducked, feeling the bullet ruffle his hair as it passed. The gunshot frightened the already timid students, just like any shot would do. The kids started crying out with each shot as Alex ducked and weaved around the tables and people, trying to draw the bullets and attention away from the others. Of the 15 soldiers, only eight remained, three staying by K-Unit and the others were firing in Alex's direction. A yell from the 6th formers made Alex swear, obviously one had been hit by a stray bullet. Grinding his teeth, he flicked out his own gun and fired two rounds, one hitting the closest soldier in the neck, the other hitting a man in the arm, causing him to drop his gun.

Successfully taking out the other gun, Alex replaced his own and stood, charging the still standing soldiers before they managed to recover their lost firearms. He barely dodged the blade as it caught him across the cheek, leaving a flaming pain in its wake. Alex removed his own blade and parried the second blow, a spark flying stray from the force of metal on metal. Alex felt his body complaining to the strain it was under, but he knew he couldn't stop and just kept going. Alex swung his knife in a loop, slitting the man's throat efficiently, and then turned to face the remaining six soldiers. One man bent down and picked up his comrade's blade, twirling it round his fingers, and then flicked his wrist, the knife hitting Alex in the shoulder.

Grunting, Alex removed the knife, feeling the hot liquid flow down his arm and drip to the floor. His arm felt cold and he barely managed to move it in the smallest of ways. _Just fucking brilliant._ Another soldier charged him, knife at the ready, and Alex caught the man's wrist, twisting it until the crunch of bones breaking caused the soldier to drop the blade. Alex angled his body and delivered a brutal sidekick to the man's chest, feeling ribs collapse under the force. The man screamed and passed out, leaving Alex with only five soldiers to contend with.

A blow to his right forced the blade from his grasp and left him weapon less. He grunted and kicked the blade under the seats, and using the leverage to throw the assassin over his shoulder, dislocating the man's arm. The pain ripping through Alex's still bleeding shoulder made his knee give out for a second. That was all his opponents needed. The four men rushed forward, two grabbing Alex's arms, twisting them behind him. The other two relieved him of his gun, tossing it to the other soldiers in charge of watching K-Unit. They forced Alex to his feet and began shoving him brutally towards the men at the front. He pretended to struggle, then went limp, using his momentum to free him from their hold.

He dropped to the floor, kicking out with a leg and catching one of the soldiers in the kidney, and then used his position to tackle the man to his left, striking the man to his temple and cracking the skull. Alex was winded as he took a bullet to the back, falling forwards onto the floor again. It stung like hell, but Alex filed the pain away for later. His brain was in fight or flight mode now, an unstoppable force to be reckoned with. A second shot grazed his back, the bullet proof vest underneath catching the brunt of the bullet. The scars complained at the rough treatment, but there was nothing Alex could do about it now.

The other two assassins recovered and made a move to grab him again, but Alex was ready and drew out his last blade. He felt his strength waning, and he knew without a doubt that much more beating and his body would give out and collapse. He needed to end this, and soon. The screaming around Alex ceased when he stood back up, and he smiled grimly. _So, they only care when their protector's down, but otherwise they don't give shit about me._ He blocked the first blow aimed at him, then brutally slashed the man across the face, distracting him, before sliding the knife between his ribcage as effortlessly as butter. The man crumpled silently and his comrade aimed a kick to Alex's back, which the teen effectively ducked under, twisting to grab the man's foot and wrench the leg from its socket.

A shrill scream echoed across the room and Alex retrieved his gun from under a nearby table, walking to stand over the prone form of the struggling soldier. He pulled the trigger once, then twice and felt all of his emotions go numb. He hated killing people, even scumbags like Scorpia. Alex took the brief interval to take cover behind the tables, quickly contacting MI6 again.

"_Blunt? Where's the back-up I called for a good twenty minute ago?_" A crackle was all he received. Perfect, the teen spy was on his own for now. He stood, again, running towards the back of the canteen, firing off several shots, before effortlessly ejecting the empty cartridge and slotting in a fresh batch of ammunition. He no longer aimed, just felt the gun jumping his hand. He could shoot with 85-90% accuracy with his eyes closed after all. Three distinct thuds signalled the guards' deaths, and the teen chose that moment to check over his Unit. They were still slumped over a good thirty feet from the Australian and the final assassin, so Alex took the chance and ran across to them, silently dreading the damage he might find. Almost as an after-thought, he signalled to Tom, asking for his bag.

The teen crouched beside the bound Unit, searching for any internal injuries or severe ones that only a trained eye could find. Sensing Tom drop the bag beside him, he shooed the boy away, trying to keep him away from the danger. Alex was starting to see black spots at the edges of his vision and he hastily ripped open his bag, searching clumsily for his first aid kit with numbing limbs. Seizing a strip of bandage he wrapped the cotton around his bleeding arm, creating a makeshift tourniquet, silently praying for the back-up teams to arrive soon, Alex could feel himself slipping. With that done, he turned back to his Unit, noting Wolf and Eagle's bruises. The men had obviously put up a good fight before capture... or they'd just pissed them off enough for a beating. Snake had one small bruise to the forehead, indicating a knock-out punch or strike. Thankful for nothing more serious to deal with, Alex started to stand up when he felt his sixth sense act up again. He just had time to register Tom's yell of 'Look out 'Lex' before he felt a muscle filled arm wrap around his neck.

Alex's instincts took over blindly for a few seconds as he began thrashing from side to side in an effort to dislodge his captor, and when nothing happened, he tried vainly to calm himself as the assassin turned them round to face the Australian. Alex felt his heart sink and pure loathing and rage almost overpowered his senses. The man had Tom by the arm, a gun held to the boy's head. Tom didn't look scared, but Alex had known the teen long enough to note the twitch in his left eye that indicated stress and fear. Alex felt his lip curl into a snarl as he opened his mouth to talk. Before he could utter a word, the assassin holding him produced a gun and pressed the cold steel to his forehead, in a similar fashion to Tom and the Australian in front.

"Now, now, Mr. Rider, no more funny business. I mean, we wouldn't want me to shoot this nice boy here now would we." The mocking tones filled with venom sent Alex into an almost frenzy like anger. He doubled his efforts to escape, managing to elbow his captor in the gut with enough force to give him some moving room. Alex spun round in the man's hold, fist ready to cause some serious damage, but the man was ready for it. The assassin's gun hand caught the teen's easily, pinning it to Alex's side with almost no effort at all. Alex felt some of his confidence wane, clearly he was up against someone with much more fighting experience than him, and much more strength too.

Once more he was turned round to face the board member, this time the assassin held him around the waist, both arms pinned tightly against his sides. Alex visibly winced when the gun was pressed to his head again, the cold metal practically forcing a shudder out of him at his failure. Tom looked slightly panicked as he saw the hopelessness in his friends eyes. There was nothing anyone could do. Alex sighed, ceasing all struggles to talk to the man, "What do you want?" There was no emotion in the teen's voice as he spoke, letting the man before him know he wasn't going to fight anymore. A satisfied look flashed briefly across the man's tanned face, before he smoothed it into one of indifference.

"Finally, a good question. Well, I'll tell you Mr. Rider, one last gift before we end your pathetic life once and for all. You see, the organisation isn't happy, at all, after the incident in Peru last month. We've decided it would be in the company's best interests if we ended the one life that kept interfering. Yours. So Alex, I'm here to take you back to the company's stronghold and dispose of you in any way I wish. And as I was a dear friend of Yu, it will be a long and painful end I'm afraid to say." A steely glint came to the dark blue eyes and Alex started to get a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. This wasn't just about him anymore. This was personal; the man _had_ attacked his school after all. He could practically feel the words before the man said them.

"Such a shame you put up such a fuss today. I can't just leave it at you anymore, I'm happy to say that this young man will be joining us, all because of you and your stupid heroics." The last bit was practically a snarl, filled with anger and frustration. Tom. They couldn't take Tom, not after everything the teen did for him. Alex closed his eyes, faking shameful acceptance while he thought of a plan. All he needed to do was take out the Australian, but how could he disarm the man behind him when the assassin clearly outclassed Alex in every way? He both had to wait until the Australian had let go of Tom and taken him out of the room, take care of the assassin and then take out the board member, or he let them get captured and then strike from inside the company's stronghold which would most likely end in the death of the both of them. Neither option looked good, and Alex was running out of time to decide.

He opened his eyes to glare forcefully at the Australian, "What if I don't agree? Will you kill him?" The man's eye twitched in annoyance at the further delay but decided to humour the teen spy. "If you don't come with us quietly, this boy will be shot, the three men in front of you will be shot and then I will personally hunt down each of the teenagers in this room and kill them too. Then I will torture you for MI6's secrets and finally kill you. I know, I'll make this easier for you. I'll take this young man out to my escape vehicle, and I'll leave you in the competent hands of my last soldier. Even if he fails, I still have your 'friend' as leverage. You have ten minutes Mr. Rider." The man paused before he turned, fixing Alex with a gaze full of an emotion scarily close to humour as he delivered a final message. "Oh and Rider? Don't think me rude for not introducing my best assassin. I believe you've already met Mr. Gregorovich." All Alex could do was watch in silent horror as the man half dragged half carried Tom out of the room, the doors closing behind them with a final click that filled Alex with despair. He hadn't been paying attention to the Australians last words, or he might have been a little more worried.

"TOM! Get back here you bastard! You're so full of shit that you don't have the balls to fight me yourself? You're such a fucking cow-" A hand clamped over his mouth, the fingers digging into his cheek bones with a painful intensity that left his gasping. The whole canteen dissolved into silence, even the whimpers of pain seeming muted, all Alex could hear was the pounding thump of his heart beat in his throat. The man holding him was clearly powerful, if the rock solid stomach Alex was pressed against was any indication. Ten minutes. Ten minutes to decide if his own life is more important than forty of his peers. Alex had been waiting for this day, maybe not intentionally, but subconsciously the teen spy had known this was coming, that one day it would be him against odds even his luck couldn't beat.

The grip tightened fractionally, before the long fingers slowly released his aching cheek muscles in favour of pressing the hard barrel of the Grach to his chin. Fear lanced through his veins, turning the blood cold. He couldn't do it. He couldn't throw away their lives for his own pathetic one. Alex took in a deep breath, noticing the arm around his waist loosening ever so slightly, giving Alex the perfect chance for one last struggle. He whipped an arm up and round, slamming his elbow into the assassin's face, dislodging what he thought was the man's mask, before using the surprised opening to twist round and grab the man's gun hand, jerking it back until he heard a faint click and the man let loose a pained hiss before dropping his weapon to the ground. Smirking, Alex looked up to bury a fist into the assassin's face when all time seemed to stop and Alex found himself struggling to breathe, his clenched fist hovering inches from the man's face.

The man before him stood a good inch above his six three, pale blonde hair sheared to a few centimetres longer than military regulation allowed. The icy Siberian blue eyes held no trace of pain as they bored into the teen spy's slowly widening brown ones. The man's thin lips slowly curved up into what Alex would have called a smile, if he thought the man could _actually_ smile. Alex felt a shudder slither down his spine as the man spoke in an accent less voice as distinct as the ruler straight scar across his pale neck.

"It's nice to see you again little Alex." Yassen fucking Gregorovich murmured gently. Thoughts spun round the teens head so fast they left him feeling dizzy and sick. No, he just couldn't be alive. This man could not be Yassen. Alex had watched the man bleed to death on Air Force one so many years ago. The shock was getting to his brain, shutting everything down. Alex could feel his emotions getting the better of him, and couldn't do anything to stop them. He fought down the wave of hysteria, biting back the tears that threatened to fall and levelled his darkest glare upon the blank-faced man.

"I'd say the same; only, I don't talk to dead people." The teen couldn't help the sarcastic side of him out, it was a coping mechanism he'd gone a long way to smother, but old habits die hard. The older blonde sighed; shaking his head, the most emotion Alex had ever seen the assassin show in public.

"It's not my fault that MI6 decided not to tell you. They probably thought it would be best if their agent didn't go AWOL on a wild goose chase after me."

"Well that makes all the fucking difference." Alex muttered darkly, before letting the harsh bite to his words fade. "Why didn't _you_ ever come back for me? If you lived, why not come and help me. Why didn't you _fucking_ help me Yassen?" Alex could feel the raw emotions starting to claw their way up his throat and he vainly struggled to hold them back. It was clear that he'd said something wrong as the assassin's face hardened.

"_Why?_ You betrayed Scorpia Alex." _As if. _Alex glanced warily at the man's clenched fists, wondering if he should lie and apologise or tell Yassen the whole truth. L:ooking at the clock told him he had five more minutes and he needed to get the assassin's sympathy or else he'd never get away, but Alex could feel himself cracking and this time, there was nothing he could do to stop the emotions getting the better of him.

"But why?" His voice cracked slightly, raw emotions clawing their way up his throat. "Why didn't you _fucking_ tell me! I spent three years having nightmares about that day, three years living with the knowledge that I was the reason you died. Living with the guilt that you risked your own life to save mine. And you're such a fucking hypocrite! It's all very well saying to me that I'm not meant for this world, that it's not what my father would have wanted, and then you go and tell me to go to Scorpia. It's _your_ fault that they have Tom, it's _your_ fault my life is ruined. And it's your _fucking_ fault that I'm left with these!" All rationality went out the window as Alex ripped off his torn and bloodied shirt and vest, which had been rendered pretty useless in the fight anyway, revealing the thick ropy whip scars, the scorpion shaped brand on his shoulder, the throbbing cuts and wounds that newly littered his body. And then, pride of place above his heart, the Scorpia bullet wound. Dimly Alex realised this is what happened when someone was hysterical, it was an interesting experience to say the least. Hot tears cascaded down his face as he accused the man before him, guilted him with his broken body.

"This is all your fault" Alex whispered brokenly, not caring that every one of his peers was seeing him like this, vulnerable and hurt. A child. Alex had never been able to get over the ragged hole the death of the assassin had left in his heart. Nor could he understand why the man hadn't returned to help him when he obviously cared for Alex.

Yassen watched Alex with those dead blue eyes while the teen ranted, never once showing any emotion. Alex thought he had seen a slight tightening of the eyes as he'd shown the man his scar, but he couldn't be sure. It was gone so fast. The man let the silence continue until the clock chimed. Alex's ten minutes were up and there was no way in hell he was allowing the Australian to take Tom. The teen turned to head for the door, and heard the movement too late.

A hand struck Alex round the back of the neck, jolting his muscles, causing them to lock up and the teen to fall forward to his knees. The man walked round to the front of the teen, crouching down to stare Alex in the eyes with his own lifeless blue ones. One hand still held the Grach, though loosely, the other he lifted slowly, as if Alex were some wild animal he was trying to sooth, and carded a hand through the teens golden locks. An inconceivable emotion flickered in Yassen's eyes, before he tutted lightly at the teen spy, gripping his hair and wrenching the boy's head back violently.

"No, little Alex. This is your fault; you are the one that betrayed Scorpia all those years ago. All they're doing is taking revenge upon a thorn in their side. I will not force you to come with me Alex, nor will I kill you. I will let you decide what the right thing to do is." He stroked the teen's cheek lightly with the barrel of the gun he held, giving Alex what he thought was a small smile.

"You look so much like John, Alex. It is a shame you never met him, he would be so proud of you." The assassin stood, releasing his hold on the teen, and eyeing the almost fully awake SAS soldiers behind them.

"I will see you soon little Alex, whether you like it or not. You must accept responsibility for your betrayal. Scorpia never forgets, Scorpia never forgives. And as for why MI6 neglected to mention how I came to still be alive, why don't you ask your precious Mrs. Jones. Goodbye." Yassen's words faded into a soft whisper as he spoke, making Alex strain to hear them. Almost as fast as the man had downed him, Yassen helped the frozen teen to his feet, replacing the gun into his hip holster, and then turning to stride out the back door after the Australian. Alex could dimly hear the fast pounding of approaching army boots, and he stood staring after his uncle's killer, frozen, numb and emotionless as the man slipped silently through the door without so much as a backwards glance.

"Yassen..." The teen spy let the name slide from his tongue, unaware of the longing tone his words betrayed.

As the doors burst open for the second time that day, Alex let himself slide slowly to the floor beside his old unit, sensing the many stares of his peers, but he couldn't care less. Right now, all he wanted to do was go home ad forget this day ever happened. Yassen had just appeared and then buggered off without any explanation at all. The battle had left its scars upon his already fragile mental state. He'd even recognised some of the assassins as old class mates from Malagutso. Twenty SAS soldiers stormed into the room, guns held high and ready for any retaliation. All they saw were a bunch of kids crying out in fear and pain, and a bare-chested teen kneeling beside a downed SAS unit.

Alex looked up to stare emotionlessly at the back-up he'd called for over twenty minutes ago, a fat lot of good they are now. Alex sighed, bringing his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes with the heels of them, before moving to untie Snake and the others as he heard the busy movement of EMTs and soldiers behind him. His old unit were beginning move their arms and legs, the drug obviously almost completely out of their systems. He smiled grimly at the three of them before standing and making his way over to Dylan, carefully checking his makeshift bandage, and allowing the EMTs to carry the boy out on a gurney.

The teenage spy stood and stared at the back door as if expecting Tom to burst back through the door laughing and joking like always. Tom. He'd failed his best friend, he'd failed his peers, and he'd failed himself. Sharp depression mentally slapped Alex, urging him to get a grip and man up for Christ's Sake. The grim faced teen turned back to the carnage that surrounded him, a blank smile locked firmly in place.

Sometimes the luck of the devil backfires, and when it does, you better get out of the way or face the full wrath of hell.

-AR-

*yays* another chapter done and dusted! Did you like it? And I'm sorry if Yassen seems a little cold and that, it'll all be explained later. So yes, Alex has just mangled and killed fifteen Scorpia men before his class, hands up if you think they'll cheer and thank him and worship him like good little slaves? ... Okay, who seriously put their hands up? 'Cause that's just silly, of course they're gonna cower in terror and try to get in his good books all at the same time. Bunch of losers. That's why Alex is such a tormented character. He get's depressed, he has cold emotions, and he's not all perky and happy all the time.

Daxy out :P


	3. Migraine

A/N – Oh my God, I'm sorry! Don't throw rocks at me :(. It's not my fault it's been months since my last update! It's been so hectic around here that I just haven't had the time to do anything for this in a while! Anyway, on with the story!

A/N (Times two!) – A reminder to review and tell me your thoughts on the slash pairing! This chapter sees Alex coping with the aftermath of the Scorpia attack.

Disclaimer:

Me: Of course I'm Anthony Horowitz! Well, actually... Okay, I lie. I'm not a middle-aged man that created the teenage superspy everyone loves. In fact, I'm a sixteen year old girl with a very sad obsession!

Alex: *mutters* Tell me about it.

Me: *whacks Alex upside the head with a dictionary* Stupid boy.

Alex: *swears*

Wolf: *snickers*

Me: You want some of this too? *waves dictionary threateningly* Well, do you!

Wolf: *shuts up*

Me: That's better.

Chapter 3 (Migraine)

_Last Time_

_The teenage spy stood and stared at the back door as if expecting Tom to burst back through the door laughing and joking like always. Tom. He'd failed his best friend, he'd failed his peers, and he'd failed himself. Sharp depression mentally slapped Alex, urging him to get a grip and man up for Christ's Sake. The grim faced teen turned back to the carnage that surrounded him, a blank smile locked firmly in place._

_Sometimes the luck of the devil backfires, and when it does, you better get out of the way or face the full wrath of hell. _

-AR-

The remaining EMTs and SAS medics spread themselves amongst the injured students, applying bandages to cuts and grazes from stray bullets, some they took away on stretchers, bullets lodged in their arms or shoulders. The rest of the student body clung hopelessly to each other, obviously seeking comfort in their time of need. Alex curled lip sardonically. He'd never had someone to be there for him in _his _time of need, well, there had been Jack... No. Alex immediately shut off that train thought; he didn't need an emotional breakdown right now. Scorpia had taken care of _her_ last year, and now they'd destroyed yet another part of Alex's life. Scorpia never forgets, Scorpia never forgives. At times like this, Alex really wished he didn't know that stupid mantra. A few younger EMTs cast frenzied looks at his scarred and injured body, obviously worried about his health, but he made move to show that he needed treating or that he even noticed their gazes. Alex was still too busy coping with the crippling guilt that weighed heavily in his heart. Tom was gone, yet another person whose life he'd ruined, and Yassen was still alive. Was nothing going to be left alone? Was he going to arrive at MI6 and find that they'd finally decided to leave him alone?

A medic from what Alex thought was T-Unit, came over to check over Wolf, Eagle and Snake. The three men seemed to be completely fine, other than some self defence bruises and grazes. Tiger, Alex thought his name was, gave the teen an uncomfortable smile, something of a rarity for a SAS soldier.

"We're sorry we couldn't get here fast enough for you Agent Rider, arranging for the ambulances and EMTs took valuable minutes. We are unsure about how Scorpia managed to take out our SWAT team outside, but logistics are looking into it as we speak. Would you like someone to take a look at your injuries?" Tiger managed to imply the right amount of concern and indifference in the question. Alex nodded his acquiesce, before searching for his discarded weapons. He retrieved his gun from under the third table he looked under. The steel sides had minor scratches and dents, nothing a good clean wouldn't fix. The knives on the other hand, were difficult to locate. One he discovered was still lodged in a man's hand, and Alex abandoned his twin knives after ten solid minutes of finding nothing.

The teen returned to his pack, replacing his first aid kit beneath the spare shirt, which he removed to put on later, and ammunition he always carried on his person. Someone cleared their throat above the kneeling teen and Alex looked up to meet the light blue gaze of his adopted unit's medic. Snake gave him a low level glare filled with disapproval, and an underlying look of concern, before tutting and motioning for the teen to stand. Alex sighed, and did as he was told; knowing anything other than obedience would earn him a twenty minute lecture about 'I'm trying to help you' and 'would you please not be so stubborn all the time'. Half of the forty teens in the room were uninjured, so were present as the medic marched him over to a table and forced him to sit down as he examined the cuts. A few quiet whispers spread around the room as the twenty teens watched Alex being tended by the Scottish SAS soldier. Snake produced a bucket of water and a clean wash cloth, handing them to a grateful Alex as he prepared some stitches. The teen winced every time he brushed over a particularly nasty laceration on his cheek, and the bullet graze actually made him clench his teeth in pain as the water seeped into the burnt flesh. Snake broke the tense silence that surrounded them with a rather awkward question.

"So... who was that assassin you were talking to? I was too out of it to hear much of what you were saying but you two seemed... familiar with each other." Alex raised an eyebrow innocently as he thought of the most vague answer he could give. "It's... classified." The man poked the teen on the forehead.

"Lair. Answer the question." Alex glared at the man, and then sighed, struggling to find the right words to use. "That man was... an old friend of my father's. He was just enquiring over my health. Why do you want to know anyway? It's not like it has anything to do with what happened." Alex could almost feel the man's irritation, but was glad when he dropped that line of thought. Unfortunately, he asked Alex to let him have a look at his back, and after agreeing, the teen mentally slapped himself as the man moved round to check him over.

"Cub how the hell did you get all these scars?" Came Snake's disgusted exclamation from behind the teen. The heavy scarring to his back and chest made Alex feel like a freak, and he'd put a lot of time towards successfully hiding them from his peers. To have them displayed like this before, felt like someone had just stripped him bare. All of Alex's walls fell around him as he fixed the unit medic with a grimace.

"Classified."

"For Christ's Sake Cub! I'm your unit medic, I have to be informed of these kind of injuries, and these are positively horrific. What happened here?" The man ran a finger over the still raw brand on the teen's shoulder and Alex hissed in pain. "Don't touch it! It's still fresh. And if you must know, it's a souvenir from the best friend of the man who organised this attack." Snake didn't mention that it appeared to be the shape of a scorpion. He understood what it meant and decided to keep it to himself. When he came back round to the front of Alex to fix the teen with a glare, he stared at Alex's chest. The man showed how out of it he was by pointing at the puckered scar tissue right above his heart, that he'd clearly missed a few minutes before.

"What the hell is that Cub?" Alex's lip twisted into a small smirk.

"I got shot."

"I can bloody well see you got SHOT!" The man shouted out, claiming everyone's attention. Alex felt rather exposed just sitting there in his jeans. "I meant, how, why and who shot you. I know a bullet wound when I see one and, if I'm right about its positioning, any closer and you wouldn't be sitting here right now. It's much too close to your heart for my liking."

All the whispers had ceased around them, and Alex felt the stares of twenty teenagers and quite a few SAS soldiers burning into the back of his skull. The spy sighed, aggravation clear in his tone. Alex knew his lack of information would get him nowhere, and he just wanted to get home and try to burn this day out of his memory. He answered as best he could as the man began to thoroughly clean the stab wound to his shoulder, sensing the fight leaving the teen.

"I was shot by a sniper, mainly because I pissed off the wrong sort of people. Actually, the very same people who decided to make an appearance today."

As Snake threaded a needle and started to stitch the deep wound closed, he continued his questioning of the young spy, still annoyed by his earlier sarcasm.

"And what about these other scars? It obvious someone tortured you, these look like someone decided to use you as a drawing pad for their knife; Jesus, someone really went to town on you Cub." Anyone else wouldn't hear the underlying tones of sincere concern and worry that laced the medic's cold toned words. In the silence though, his words carried and soon a rather angry shout cut across the room.

"Shot! Tortured! Will you get out of my bloody way; I already told you I'm fine! What? No, I don't care, just fuck off!" Alex could only hold back his laughter as a severely pissed off Wolf, his unit leader, pushed his way through the mass of EMTs and SAS soldiers, stopping only a few feet away from the teen. Behind him trailed Eagle, a nasty bash to the head covered by an already blood stained bandage.

"You look terrible Cub. Explain." The look on Wolf's face would have melted small children, but Alex was used to much worse, and merely gave him a blank look that said 'No shit Sherlock.' Alex was pretty sure he saw a vein pop on the man's forehead, thankfully, or rather, unluckily; Eagle took that chance to butt in.

"Soooo, what did they want from you to make them torture you?" Alex bit back a sarcastic retort and rolled his eyes at the man.

"They wanted some information that I just so happened to have."

"... So they give you classified secrets and expect you to be able to keep them under torture?" Alex knew that one day someone would find a way to silence the irritating man. He hoped it would be with a fist.

"No you dolt. I _am _a classified secret; ergo I hear things many people would kill to know. And before you ask, I'm not going to tell you what they are!"

Eagle pouted very slightly, then seemed to remember where he was and changed the pout into a glare, huffing to himself.

"How long did they torture you for?" Wolf asked in a dead serious tone that left no chance of backing out.

"Three months, and no, I didn't spill. It would take a lot more than this to make me talk." He grimaced wryly at his adopted unit, wincing as Snake finished the stitches to his shoulder. Whispers picked up again and Alex secretly wished his team would shut up, but alas, Alex never got what he wanted.

"SHIT Cub. Three months? By the same people who tried to kill you today? Heck, they're Scorpia! How the hell did you survive so long? And you've been on this list for what, four years!" Alex ran through a list of witty remarks he knew he could make to anger his unit leader, but decided upon a cryptic and unhelpful one.

"I'm hard to kill" At that, the teen spy was saved by the arrival of Crawley and a group of MI6 agents. Snake, Eagle and Wolf gave him identical looks that clearly said 'This isn't over, we'll continue the third degree later', before turning and following the retreating EMTs to the heavy duty vehicles that no doubt waited outside. The remaining teenagers were herded towards the back door, surrounded by a team of SAS soldiers, and lead to the hall towards the front of the school. Alex checked his watch, surprised to find it already past three. Crawley approached the four of them, motioning with his head for Alex to follow. Before he could take a step away, Snake cleared his throat and held out a piece of fabric. Alex smiled weakly at him, pulling the fresh tee over his head and hastily limping to catch up with the MI5 operative.

"You have no idea how much shit Blunt is in at the moment. The Prime Minister is outraged that he would allow this sort of thing to happen when the school was meant to be under protection. Mrs. Jones has sent me in with the necessary forms for your peers to fill out. Obviously, they'll all have to be told what happened, and why. You've been granted permission to inform you class mates of your position in MI6, along with any other information you deem necessary for them to know. OSA's have been sent to the parents, and of course, they have been told what happened here today that endangered the lives of their children. The injured have been taken to the closest A and E, and will be given the most expensive treatment we can afford." Crawley paused before the doors to the Hall, turning to give Alex an emotionless glance.

"I truly am sorry for what has happened here today Alex. This is something MI5 and MI6 never wished to happen." The man pushed open the heavy fire doors and tilted his head for Alex to precede him. The teen spy sighed a world weary sigh. He really hated his life sometimes. The failure that was this afternoon hit Alex hard with every step he took, the dull throb of guilt threatening to cripple with the slightest touch. The miraculously uninjured members of his class all turned to stare at him with identical looks of awe and wariness, before leaning close to one another and whispering furiously. Alex felt his left eye twitch in annoyance, but continue nevertheless.

The teenage spy took his place at the front of the Hall, taking the time to meet every single one of his peer's gazes, waiting until they each backed down from the stare before speaking up.

"No doubt you're all wondering what the hell just happened, and I'm afraid to say this attack is mainly my fault. I wish to express my absolute apology at the danger you just went through, and how traumatic an experience like that can be. All of your parents have been notified of the attack and the possibility of your absence for at least another hour or two. Now. I'm going to have to ask each and every one of you to sign the forms the MI6 agents are about to hand out. They are highly important and crucial to the investigations. Anyone who does not sign the Official Secrets Act will not be returning home until they do. I'm sure you'll all want to go home and just switch off for a few days. I'm authorizing a week off, all of you involved will be expected to turn up to school next Friday for a debriefing and informative talk on the events that transpired only hours ago. Thank you for your time, I will now hand you over to Mr. Crawley."

Alex gave the man no choice as he stepped down from the podium and strode purposely out of the back doors and onto the school grounds. The clouds gathered thick and heavy above him, and the teen could practically feel the rain in the air. Alex walked to his Jeep, nodding to the few EMTs and SAS soldiers still around. He really needed a lie down, and some of his pain killers. The large scarring to his back and chest were beginning to itch and throb with each breath, especially his bullet wound. Alex absently rubbed the scar as he slid into the driver's seat and started the ignition. He certainly wasn't going to hang around to deal with the no doubt thousands of questions the teenagers would hurl at him when given half a chance.

Alex pushed his foot down gently onto the acceleration and started the short journey back home to the large, empty house on Cheyne Street.

-AR-

Alex spent the best part of his week off slowly working out his stiff muscles. The intense battle had done more damage to his scar tissue than he'd thought, and required extra stretching and more doses of painkiller every day. The shoulder wound had scabbed over nicely, the stitches all but gone, and the bullet graze to his thigh almost non-existent. The teen had received several calls from Mrs. Jones enquiring after his health and also what he wished to be revealed at the assembly on Friday. After almost a day working all possible outcomes in his mind, Alex had decided upon the truth. The whole truth. His involvement with MI6, his parents and uncle's involvement with MI6 and Scorpia, the real reason behind the attacks. Everything. Ben had also deigned the teen with a visit the day after he was released from hospital.

The man had turned up on his doorstep without any forewarning and they'd spent the day together on Alex's sofa, catching up and relaxing. Alex liked Ben, and to be honest, Alex preferred his company to pretty much anyone's. Except for Tom. Now that his black haired friend was missing, Alex had sunk into a deep bout of depression, which not even the light hearted teasing of Ben could cure. Eventually, the man took the hint and left the teenage spy to his own devices.

When Friday was upon him, Alex woke an hour earlier than normal; the sheets tangled around him, covered in sweat, the after images of his nightmare flashing briefly through his mind. Alex had forgone the hope of falling back to sleep, and had risen, taken his shower and eaten breakfast, with three hours to kill before he was needed. Mrs. Jones had contacted all of the students involved with the accident and told them to meet at the Hall on Friday at noon. All the injured teens had been released the previous day, without any lasting damage, for which Alex was pleased.

The whole dour mood that had settled upon him since the attack took every opportunity to strike out at random stretches of the walls. Alex really needed to get his self control back... And hire a wall repairman. As the clock struck eleven, Alex changed into a fresh set of clothes after showering once more, placing his gun and replacement knives into their holsters. He unhooked the car keys, pulling on a black windbreaker before heading out of the house and slipping into his Jeep. His phone went, and Alex put the call on speaker, sighing when he hears Mrs. Jones's voice echoing metallically from the mobile.

"Alex, make sure you turn up at least half an hour early so we can discuss the details and run over the briefing once more. An agent will meet you outside the Hall; make sure you are not seen by any other students." The line went dead as Alex was about to reply that he was already on his way and that he _knows_ he has to be early, so the teen just slipped it back into his pocket, pulling up into the narrow road that lead to his school.

Brookland parking lot had several 'MI6' looking cars parked strategically around the grounds and Alex really wished they were more subtle. Sometimes it made him want to bash his head against a wall that the world's best spies were so damn obvious all the time. Anyone watching the school right then would be able to tell that several agents were on the premises. He shook his head, slamming the driver's door shut and using the plipper to activate the sophisticated MI6 locking mechanism he'd had installed. He'd neglected to mention to Jones or Blunt that Smithers had kitted the car out with several little surprises the man had thought useful in case of emergency. The dark grey clouds that greeted him as he jogged slowly up the eleven steps to the school Hall seemed like an omen for things to come, but Alex wasn't the superstitious sort, so he took no notice, more concerned with the grim looking MI6 agent that met him at the doors.

"Agent Rider. Mrs. Jones as requested me to escort you to the Hall, follow me please Sir." The underlying hints of sarcasm that lined the agent's words made Alex smirk. Obviously not everyone was happy having an eighteen year old for a superior. The dimly lit hallways echoed with the clack of expensive businessman shoes the agent appeared to be wearing; a stark contrast to the Ed Hardy's Alex had decided to wear that day. The posh looking suit the man was wearing made Alex feel slightly under-dressed, and silently pondered over what the rest of the agents meeting him would be dressed like. He only had a second or two to think, as they reached the doors in record time.

Alex walked past the agent, inclining his head in thanks before turning to face the four most important people in the intelligence field... Apart from Alan Blunt and the Prime Minister. Mrs. Jones, Deputy Head of MI6 Special Operations, MI5 Head Lucas Carlow and his Deputy Mrs. Ellis, and Mr. Crawley. He shook hands with each of them, accepting compliments for the good job he did last week with silence and a polite smile. Ellis and Carlow took their seats on the podium, quietly talking about inconsequential things, which were actually important things in code. Jones nodded to Crawley, who pulled out a file.

"This is the information I've been authorized to reveal. We would like you to go through and remove things you would like not to be publicized and add anything you feel has been left out." She looked at her expensive looking watch and unwrapped a peppermint, sucking the sickeningly sweet mint before continuing, "You have ten minutes before I will take the file back and the students will begin to arrive."

The two of them stepped up to the podium and seated themselves on the next two chairs. Alex vaguely took note of the four SAS soldiers standing guard behind them, they looked like D-Unit, or L-Unit, and Alex couldn't be sure in the dark lighting of the Hall. Shaking his head, Alex opened the rather thick file and began stripping it of any in depth information about himself. The real reason behind the death of Jack was also removed, along with brief overviews of his missions and training. His class mates didn't need to know about those, and he wasn't about to let them know after four years of hiding the truth. The extent and cause of his injuries he also took out, leaving behind all the information about his involvement with Scorpia, minus the fact he trained with them, and his time with MI6 and the cause for his recruitment. He also removed his training with the SAS, not entirely sure why, but Alex had a feeling it would be beneficial is his peers didn't know about that.

Finding nothing else that needed editing, Alex stepped up to the podium, taking his place beside Mrs. Jones and handing back the significantly lighter file. She gave him a small frown, before waving a hand to one of the agents behind her.

"Agent Harrow, please retrieve the students, take a note of their names and forms, we need to make sure they are who they say they are. We can't have _any_ security breaches today." The agent inclined his head subtly, and headed towards the heavy set doors to the back of the Hall. The five intelligence agents spent the next ten minutes in tense silence as they waited for the return of the agent and the arrival of the forty teenagers. The teens entered with a silence that surprised Alex, these were his rowdy classmates acting like a bunch of terrified mice. He took a glance at the four agents next to him and realised they probably looked incredibly intimidating, especially after the events of last week. As the forty students found seats in little groups, Mrs. Jones stood and clacked her way over to the microphone in her heel killing high heels.

She paused, waiting until she had the whole Hall's attention, clearing her throat and beginning her MI6 prepared spiel about the major cock-up in security that was mainly her fault.

"Good afternoon students. As I'm sure you're wondering, my name is Mrs. Jones and I am here to discuss the tragic events that took place at this school last Thursday during lunch. Twelve armed guards entered the school after securing all possible escape routes; they were soon followed by a pair of the world's most dangerous men. They all belonged to a worldwide terrorist organization called Scorpia. You may or may not know that Scorpia stands for the four main areas of terrorism that the organisation is repeatedly hired for. Sabotage, Corruption, Intelligence and Assassination. The leader of the attack is known only as the Australian, the man next to him, Yassen Gregorovich. Some would argue that this man was possibly the world's best assassin, having killed many important figures since he began work fifteen years ago at the age of nineteen." Alex almost rolled his eyes when his classmates began whispering to each other, no doubt about how he had seemed to know the assassin quite well. They shut up when Mrs. Jones continued.

"To answer the question I know you are thinking I am the Deputy Head of the Special Operations division of MI6. Behind me is the Head of Special Operations of MI5, Mr. Carlow, his Deputy Head Mrs. Ellis, their liaison Mr. Crawley. And finally, MI6's top field agent, Alex Rider." She valiantly continued through the loud whispers and conversations that started up at the mention of Alex's involvement with these people. Many had secretly wondered why Alex was on the stage next to the clearly 'spy like' people around him.

"Alex started working for us at the age of fourteen, after the tragic death of his uncle. Over the past four years, Mr. Rider has been the key to success for many of the world's most delicate and important missions, with a respectable 100% success rate. He is also the reason behind the attack last week. Alex has kindly agreed to discuss the... incident on his own. Alex?" She turned to him, tilting her head in invitation for him to take her place. The teen grimaced at her, a slight curl to the lip, and then sighed, standing as she returned to her seat and unwrapped a peppermint, popping the disgusting thing in her mouth as he faced the eager stares of his peers. The teen uncomfortably cleared his throat before starting.

"Thank you Mrs. Jones. As she has already stated, I am MI6's youngest and most respected agent. My uncle did not die in a car crash, as many of you were told, but he was murdered on a mission. He too was an MI6 agent, as was my father. MI6 drafted in my help for the mission my uncle died on, and since then I have taken part in over fifty different assignments. None of which I will tell you about." He caught the disappointed pouts on many of their faces, before smirking to himself and continuing.

"Scorpia have played a key part in my arrival to MI6. Which I also won't be telling you about. There are many things in my life that I'd prefer to keep to myself. As for my involvement with Scorpia, four years ago I destroyed one of the organisation's largest and most expensive attacks upon the school children of England. Since then I have been at the top of their hit list. Several times Scorpia have tried and failed to kill me... Last week was the latest and frankly the poorest attempt they have made in the last four years. I apologise for the injury and trauma the incident has left you with, and rest assured, the school's security has been upgraded. An attack like this will not be happening again. I thank you for your co-operation with signing the OSA forms. I will tell you something now though. Do not try and tell anyone what we have just revealed to you. Not only will you endanger yourselves, but the lives of those you love and the friends around you. You will also be putting my life in danger. There are many people out there that would gladly kill you to get close to me. Do not reveal anything and maybe we'll all live to see twenty. Thank you." Alex let out a deep breath, not pleased with the barely veiled threat be made to his peers, and stepped down, stalking back to his chair and glaring at nothing in particular. He could already sense the excitement brewing in his peers, the curiosity of their stares Mr. Crawley finished up the assembly and asked them to please return to normal school next Monday and continue on as if nothing happened.

As the teenagers stood and gushed to each other, walking towards the back doors again, Alex felt a weariness seep into him. Now the last barrier between his normal life and MI6 had been forcibly torn down by Scorpia. The organisation had yet again ruined a part of Alex's life. Thinking about the incident brought back the painful guilt of Tom's kidnapping. Alex highly doubted the teen was still alive, and MI6 had exhausted their resources trying to track them down. Alex felt the tears beginning to rise and shook his head, stubbornly swallowing the sadness. He had a life to get on with, he couldn't waste the rest of his days thinking about what he could have done to stop his death. He could carry on and do his job, just like he had after Jack's death. He could mourn when he had the time, but otherwise, the pain was shoved brutally to the back of his mind where it could no longer distract him from the present. Distractions got you killed in the spy world.

-AR-

Monday morning signalled the arrival of the biggest fucking migraine Alex had ever had. The alarm on his clock felt like shards of glass being shoved around his brain by a four year old like crayons. The warm shower did little, only loosening his stiff with sleep muscles. With hair soaking wet and a towel wrapped around his waist, Alex downed a few aspirins with a cold glass of water from his kitchen as the teen turned on the news for the first time in years. Alex frowned when he saw the headline for that hour. 'School attacked by unnamed terrorist group.' Alex all but crushed the glass in his hand when it showed a picture of his school, all of the MI6 cars gathered around the parking lot. The teen was about to ring MI6 and ask them how the hell the story was leaked when, a) he realised he only had a towel on and thereby, no way whatsoever to call them and b) the reporter began talking to a government agent. Mr. Crawley.

Alex ignored all sense of time as he sat to watch, listening to the cover story MI5 had obviously made up to seem like they were in charge and that a group of forty teenagers hadn't been in a life threatening situation. He snorted, eating one of the apples from the many bowls of fruit the spy had arranged on his table. When the reporter finished and Alex had a look at the time, he almost swore. He had half an hour to get ready and get to the school, which was at least fifteen minutes way with morning traffic.

As Alex changed the migraine faded slightly, giving him enough time to concentrate on pulling on a pale blue tee, black jeans and a navy jacket. The teen was so distracted that he forgot all of his weapons apart from the knife he had already attached to his thigh and the gun that hung below his car keys. (Smithers had sewed a special seam into his jeans, big enough to conceal a slim knife.) The slow drive to Brookland School made Alex jittery. He had already been dreading returning to school after the 'show' he put on two weeks ago, and now he was late on top of that. The teachers wouldn't be happy and it gave his classmates even more to gossip about. The busy lanes of traffic and loud, insistent beeps of horns caused a painful throb to flash through Alex's head. The teen pulled up into the school lot ten minutes later, a good fifteen minutes late for homeroom and five minutes into hi first lesson of the day, Advanced Maths.

It was lucky for Alex that it was one of his best subjects, and the teacher was a kind old woman called Mrs. Griffith. She smiled and told him 'Don't worry dear' and 'Just take a seat and start work'. The last thirty minutes of the lesson passed quietly, Alex sat near the back where it would be too obvious to turn round and talk to him, so he was left in peace, his headache slowly increasing in severity. The piercing, literally in Alex's case, bell that signalled the end of first period startled Alex enough to make him jump a fraction. The migraine was a serious distraction, but it wasn't nearly as painful as it could have been.

No one talked to Alex as he stalked through the corridors, but any of the forty teenagers he recognised from the assembly last Friday moved out of his way with awe and respect. He silently wished his classmates could be more subtle, behaviour like this would attract the attention of the whole student body, which could spell disaster for the spy. As he arrived in Spanish, Alex could all but taste the excited buzz that hovered in the air like an irritating wasp. _God, teenagers can be such a pain in the ass sometimes_, managed to make its way through the painful mush that made up Alex's brain.

The Spanish teacher was always late; she liked to have a cigarette between each lesson, which left plenty of time for certain members of Alex's class to act out of character. All at once Alex was bombarded with questions and invitations and god knows what by the group of seven sixth formers. Alex felt as if his head might explode, and wished he had a gun, of knife or something (forgetting that he actually did), that he could use to end his life with. He stayed silent until they all realised that he'd said nothing to them, and cowed away from the hostile look on his face. He smirked at them and leaned back on his chair against the wall.

"How about... no. It's rather remarkable how much your opinions of me have changed in the last two weeks. Thank you for the idiotic offers to come over and the invitations into your childish little groups, but I think I'd rather shoot myself now." He straightened up, hearing the familiar wheezing cough of his Spanish teacher, and smiled sweetly at the seven dumbstruck teenagers. When understanding didn't dawn on any of their faces, Alex sighed and said in an innocent voice. "In other words... Fuck off."

None of them bothered him again over the next hour of lesson time, and by the time he reached the Canteen, whispers followed him again. He was pleased that his message had gone well received, but also a little annoyed that they still treated him with this hero worship kind of atmosphere. As he went to queue up for food, all of the gathered sixth formers moved aside to let him through first, nodding to him, not meeting his gaze as he shot them all hard looks. He turned to the table he always sat at with Tom, and sighed, running a hand over his face.

The migraine had gone, thankfully, but it still loomed in the background, ready and waiting to cripple his mind again as he slowly bit into his disgusting school dinner. Several teens made an attempt to sit with him, only to hastily retreat when he looked up and gave them a low level glare. As he ate, Alex grimly thought of the next period he had. It was a free lesson, so that meant several of the other teens would try and make nice with him again, seeing as they didn't have an over observant teacher to yell at them if they weren't doing anything.

Alex usually spent his free period sat in the school library learning more languages with his trusty iPhone. MI6 had given him three more to learn, so Alex decided he would concentrate on learning Chinese. The long walk to the normally empty library was a moment of peace for Alex. All the other students, apart from the five that shared the free period with him, were in lessons, so the corridors were lacking noisy, over enthusiastic teens chatting and gossiping to their hearts content. He nodded to the librarian as he entered, moving to his usual seat by the large, floor to ceiling window, at the back of the room. As he pulled out the iPhone and selected his fourth Chinese lesson, he heard the arrival of one or two more students. Thinking them to be younger years sent to get books for teachers, Alex ignored them.

Just as the teen was about to put his legs up on the chair opposite, an irritatingly familiar person planted themselves there. Dylan looked paler than usual, his right shoulder still bandaged and his arm in a sling from the graze. Alex knew they were painful, but his had healed over a week ago. From the smug smile on Dylan's face, Alex knew this conversation wasn't going to be one he enjoyed.

"Alex mate! I've been looking for you all day. Now that we're like, famous in the school year, I thought we should hang out more. You're a good laugh, and obviously you can handle yourself. I was wondering if you'd like to be my second in command 'round here? We need to teach the others to respect us more. I mean, we both took bullets for them." Alex knew he was giving Dylan a look that read 'Piss off, unless you want to end up crippled painfully', but the other teen obviously wasn't paying attention. His first mistake. His second mistake made Alex grit his teeth; he could feel the carefully maintained control slipping, the migraine brutally shoving away common sense out the window.

"Don't you think we should get some kind of special treatment from the others or something? I need you to back me up, I mean, we could get the nerds to do our coursework for us! We'd get all A's no problem. And girls. We'd get tons of girls flocking around us mate. I hear chicks love a guy with scars, and mysterious guys with scars like you would get hundreds asking you out! You with me dude?" Dylan never got an answer. One look at the other teen's cocky little mug made Alex's blood boil, and he couldn't hold back the fist as he punched Dylan on his injured shoulder. The boy cried out, falling out of the chair. iPhone lesson long forgotten, Alex felt the last of his restraint fly away as pure irritation and anger took over.

"You are the most idiotic, pathetic, waste of space I think I've ever met Dylan. You think that getting a puny little wound like that and making a fucking fool of yourself in front of people who could kill you in a second, without remorse, is a good reason to bully kids?" Alex kicked the boy, hard, in the ribs, hearing a crack, but not the pain filled cry Dylan made.

"And girls? Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you Dylan? The scars that I have are marks of idiocy and moments of distraction. They show how dangerous it is to be involved with my kind of life, and you want to show them off like some kind of freak show?" He bent down, grabbing the terrified looking teen by the collar of his shirt, snarling into Dylan's face as he finished.

"I'll tell you if I'm with you. Fuck no. You talk to me ever again; _ever_ again, with this kind of insolent attitude, I'm not going to be able to stop myself from fucking killing you. You with me, dude?" Alex drew back his fist and punched Dylan so hard in the face that the teen fainted with the pain.

A woman's scream cut through Alex's blood thirsty thoughts, and the teen slowly came back to himself, staring in disbelief at the prone form before him. He looked up at Mrs. Hobbs, the librarian, as she dialled 999 on her mobile. Alex glanced at his bloodied knuckle, and then collapsed back into his chair, burying his head in his hands. Despair filled the teen as he dimly heard the librarian's conversation with the ambulance service.

"_Oh shit. What have I done?"_

-AR-

A/N - Done and done! Oh dear Alex, what trouble have you made for yourself now. That chapter was a thrill to write... not. Alex has finally lost it, and who thinks MI6 are going to be pleased? Oh well. That's another chapter finished! Thanks to all of you that are still with me and aren't slamming your heads against the keyboard in frustration! Next chapter sees the repercussions of his outburst and yet another brush with death.

Daxy xx

PS – A reminder to review and vote for your preferred slash paring!


	4. In Cold Blood

Chapter 4 (In Cold Blood)

A/N – Hey again! (BTW, probably best to read the last little bit of the previous chapter first, to remind yourself of the story) Thanks for sticking with me! If you've read my profile page – which most of you probably haven't, you'll know that as of this update, there will be seven, that's right, SEVEN, fics being updated whenever a chapter is written. Bear in mind the fact that I'm in my GCSE year, so I'll be revising a lot of the time and the updates for ANY of my fics will be slow and sporadic. Please bear with me ^^ and please, please, PLEASE, review! Thanks, anyways, onto the disclaimer :P.

Disclaimer:

Me: I'm rapidly running out of witty things to say... oh well. At least fantasising about Alex and Yassen and K-Unit can keep me occupied while I struggle to think of a cunning way to kidnap AHORZ and stealify his rights... In the meantime, Alex Rider and anything to do with Alex Rider, does hereby not belong to me in the slightest :P. There I said it, happy now?

Alex and K-Unit: *nod-nod* Yup, you're good.

Yassen: Though I'm rather disappointed with your lack of creativity today.

Me: ... Do you want me to get the dictionary? Your face seems like a pretty nice place to slam it :P.

Yassen: *glares*

Me: *eeks and hides behind Alex* Okay, okay! No dictionary for your face then!

-AR-

(Flashback – day of the 'Dylan incident')

"_I'm such an asshole." _Alex thought for the umpteenth time that hour, the four words repeating constantly – his own inner mantra – as he sighed into his hands. For fifty minutes he'd been sat there, trying desperately to avoid the frightened looks the librarian shot him as she fiddled with the edge of her skirts. He felt like such an ass. Mrs. Carter was a thin woman, frail-looking, and seeing that terrified glint in her eyes made Alex want to crawl into a hole an die like the animal he was. The teen was still trying to come to terms with what he'd done. In two words – lost control, but that was a phrase the spy _never _wanted to hear, and shouldn't hear in his profession. He didn't just lose control. He kept it, practiced it. Lived and breathed every waking moment of his life with it. In truth, Alex was scared too. He had no idea he could resort to injuring one of his peers like that, no matter how much they deserved a good beating. Dylan lay on the floor ten feet from the teen, breathing unsteadily and with great effort, and once again Alex thought, _"I'm such an asshole." _Two male EMTs crouched on either side of the downed teen, checking his vitals and trying to make him as comfortable and pain-free as possible. They'd arrived five minutes ago... along with about fifteen other sixth formers who happened to be wandering the halls.

They stood at the doorway, being held back by another of the teachers, muttering, whispering heatedly to each other, and Alex had no doubt that they all hated him again. A mere hour ago they were singing his praises and thought he was a god. Now, he was one of the enemies, a freak, an outcast yet again. He knew most of the school would hear of this within minutes, and the teen spy could even see several new faces shove their way through to get a better look at him. He felt like some exhibit at the zoo – 'Alex Rider, lethal, dangerous. Approach with caution: Do not feed.' He was actually at breaking point; his emotions were just too raw to deal with it all. As if to make matters worse, no sooner had Alex decided he'd rather face the police than the coyote like teens outside, two middle aged men in uniform walked in, the teens parting to let them through like the red sea. He sighed to himself, and tried to mentally prepare to be patronized and looked down upon, something that seemed to happen regularly when officers were involved. They never seemed to get he was actually telling the truth.

Alex watched them approach out of the corner of his eyes as the EMTs loaded Dylan's still unconscious body onto the gurney and grimaced as they shot him identical accusing looks over their shoulders as they wheeled their way out and into the very busy hallway. Yet more people who hated Alex's guts. The officers reached him a few seconds later and started their scripted spiel about how he had the right to remain silent and question after question of why he did it, how, if he'd been arrested before, if he was on drugs, if he'd been drinking. It went on and on, and the more they said, the less Alex wanted to say _anything_, and the teen just sat in silence as they attempted to catch him out with their irritating questions. Alex wished MI6 would send someone to fetch him already, it had been at least an hour and a half since the 999 call had been made, and yet Blunt hadn't sent even _one_ operative to reprimand him. The one time Alex actually wanted them, they were late.

The men looked about ready to throttle the spy when, seemingly out of nowhere, a rather short woman dressed in the usual MI6 garb appeared at the more senior officer's elbow. An almost imperceptible rising of an eyebrow sent the two men scuttling away like dogs with their tails between their legs. Alex had to bite his lip, hard, to stop himself from smiling or rolling his eyes as the woman motioned for him to follow her out, past the suddenly silent teens gathered outside. Last week's attack had made a real impression on most of them, and now the MI6 type was uncomfortably familiar to them too. The silence was almost worse than the whispers, the gossip, and Alex felt his mood plummet even more with each step he took. The agent didn't speak to him as they walked, nor did he feel the need to say something to her, the teen wanted to time to compose himself properly. His anger was long gone, but the adrenaline in his system refused to leave him be.

Outside, the ambulance was gone, and the police vehicle was slowly reversing out and onto the street that ran parallel to the school. A sleek, 'spy' looking black car was parked opposite the gate, and Alex knew right then that MI6 weren't going to just let him off for this. It was serious, and the teen bowed his head as they reached the car doors.

"Rider," the woman had a sharp voice, cold and blunt (like someone he knew and hated), and drew him out of his thoughts, making Alex look up again to meet her vibrant eyes. There must have been something in his eyes that conveyed his anguish, as her tone softened slightly as she spoke again, "Jones wasn't impressed with you actions today Alex, and they sent me to make sure nothing was filed against you. The agency can't afford to have their agents reported for anything that could be used by the enemy as bargaining chips. Just... get in the car, Jones and Blunt want to speak with you as soon as we reach HQ." Her expression closed off again, and both of them slid into the plush looking car.

The drive was short, uneventful and awkward as hell. Not only did they not talk, but Alex had to deal with the subtle threat he heard to her words before, that if he got convicted, if MI6 hadn't bailed him out, Scorpia, anyone really, could use the fact he'd been to prison against him, his friends or his family. He wished yet again that MI6 had never used him, had never used his father or his uncle. He wished he came from an ordinary family, lived an ordinary life and had ordinary problems. He stared out to window as they pulled up to the tall building, and mentally battled to restrained his sarcasm and fury, they certainly wouldn't help him get on his bosses' good sides. He had to affect the right amount of sincerity, guilt and obedience to convince them he was sorry and hopefully the worst they'd do would be sending him for more training. The agent, who'd said absolutely nothing since they set off from the school, tapped him on the shoulder once, "Good luck Rider." Alex couldn't tell, but he thought he heard actual sympathy in her tone, and even a hint of respect, before she climbed out the car and disappeared down a corridor.

The teen spy shook his head, and set off towards to agent only elevators, nodding respectfully to a few co-workers as he entered the main HQ level, and headed towards the large double doors at the end with a heavy heart. _"Time to face the music" _Alex grumbled mentally as he took a deep breath and pushed open the remarkably light doors, and crossed the short distance to seat himself in the single chair opposite the two people he hated most in his life. The office hadn't changed much since he'd last been there, but a plant in the corner seemed to be slightly greyer and perhaps more wilted, the floor-to-ceiling window at the back still looked over the London cityscape, letting in the dreary grey light of the cloud littered sky. The desk was still spotless, and the man sitting behind even more so. Alan Blunt looked as dull and grey as ever, his dark grey hairline receding further and further across his grey skinned skull. It made Alex wish he himself was wearing more colour, and turned his attention towards the dark skinned woman perched on the edge of the desk, her mouth moving only slightly as she sucked on a peppermint.

"Alex," Her voice oozed fake sincerity, "So good of you to come in on such short notice." She paused to glance over at her boss, before she dropped the pretence and sighed.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused today? No? Well, we've had to pull a few strings with the police to let you go without charges, compensate Dylan's family to cover the medical bills, convince the government heads that you're not turning rogue and several other important heads around the globe. You're our best agent, and you've made us look like we can't control a simple teenager!"

Alex looked at his feet, guilt crashing around him as he struggled to think of something, _anything_ to tell them. Nothing. He couldn't explain his lapse in control to them anymore than he could to himself. It was stupid, and he deserved to be given any sort of 'punishment' they had lined up. Jones took his silence as obedience, and smiled very, _very_ faintly. Blunt cleared his throat, and without even acknowledging the fact Alex was there, spoke to Jones.

"I want him being watched at school every day, at home on the weekends, everywhere he goes, I want an agent accompanying him. I do _not_ want a repeat of today under any circumstances. House arrest and no social meetings until he has proven he is capable again. Dismissed."

Alex blinked several times at his boss, and then at Jones, who only nodded, and grudgingly left the room, feeling confused and vaguely cheated. He'd been dreading that meeting, so sure that he'd be fired or given some sort of harsh training course. A babysitter? Not amazing, but something Alex was sure he could handle, especially if it was an agent he was at least vaguely familiar with. Ben came to his mind first, the auburn haired man having taken a sort of brotherly affection for the teen.

He'd been told to wait outside by Jones as he'd left, and now sat on one of the seven, you guessed it, _grey_ chairs, his foot bouncing on its heel. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and the teen was beginning to think they'd forgotten about him, wouldn't be the first time. A door clicked open, and Alex's head whirled round, instincts making him take up a slightly defensive stance, and he raised his eyes to meet a familiar indigo gaze.

"_You're_ the agent they're having tail me?" Alex smothered the snarky tone of his voice, eyeing the female agent as she stalked in and over to him with her eyes narrowed slightly. He gulped, slightly intimidated by the small woman's gaze, something of a rarity when it came to Alex, and sat back down, mumbling an apology.

"To answer your question, yes, I _am_ the poor agent they assigned to watch you." She held out a small hand to him, which the teen reluctantly shook, still eyeing her cautiously, "The name's Agent Claud-Xenith(1), but seeing as you'll be housing me for the next seven days, and I have to blend in, you can call me KC." She said the last bit through her teeth, and in such a tone that Alex got the feeling she found socialising awkward and uncomfortable. Alex watched her for a little longer, before he allowed a small smile to twist his lips. He understood her discomfort, having felt the same for most of his pre-teen life, and found that he actually quite liked this 'KC' woman. The teen stood once again, and let out a resigned sigh, and then turned to walk out the door, pausing when he reached out and took the handle. He shot a quick grin over his shoulder as she called after him.

"Rider, I know you probably don't want someone following you almost every moment of the day, but where do you think you're going?" He shrugged, still smiling that sarcastic, yet open smile of his.

"_I'm_ going home. _You_ can decide if you want to follow me or not, and to be honest, I don't mind the whole babysitter concept one bit. Oh, and KC?" She nodded, seeming a little taken aback by his sudden welcoming attitude towards her, after his rude words earlier.

"Call me Alex."

(End Flashback)

-AR-

A week later found Alex sat at his desk in his English Lit. Class, staring somewhat stonily at his notebook as he mindlessly copied down everything his teacher was saying, and trying unsuccessfully to ignore the heated glares he felt burning fifteen holes into the back of his head. Well, fourteen really. The slightly oriental looking girl sat with her cheek resting on her palm at the desk two seats to the right of Alex was asleep, but if looks could kill, his other classmates would be facing murder charges. He couldn't blame them really. His loss of control last week had shaken Alex much more than anything else had, not even when he'd found out his uncle had been murdered by Sayle. Alex sighed almost imperceptibly, and let his eyes wander to the peaceful view he had out the second story window to his left, his jumbled thoughts running through his head at breakneck speed. The last seven days since that fateful dooming of his new god status in the school had been a somewhat new experience for the teen spy, housing a fellow, and _female_, agent in his Chelsea home being only the tip of the iceberg.

That first night, after their rather... terrible first meeting, had been extremely awkward, neither of them being able to think of anything appropriate to say or do. KC went about unpacking all of her things, and Alex – after realising it would be too uncomfortable to offer her any assistance – fetched her a cup of tea and after standing idly by her doorframe for a good ten minutes, went to bed. Conversation between them had been an actual nightmare. KC wanted to do nothing other than sit and read, and after a few attempts to start some small chit chat, Alex realised it was better to just leave er to it. Once that was settled, the teen found it rather nice to have someone else in the house to cook for, living alone had its drawbacks, and the compliments to his cooking ability helped ease them both into a rough friendship.

Alex felt his face flush when he remembered one particular evening when it had slipped his mind completely that someone else was in the house, and had walked from his bathroom, down the stairs to the laundry room (passing the open plan living room along the way), and back, wearing only a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. The startled gasp had shocked Alex back into reality, as did the rather red-faced MI6 agent covering her eyes on the sofa. He hadn't divulged in a shower without getting his clean clothes first since. Surprisingly, (KC managed to find a way to excuse herself to her room whenever the teen did have a shower on a side note), Alex had found himself accepting the woman more and more since then. They talked more openly when they sat for dinner, they would occasionally watch something together in the living room, well, Alex would watch, KC would read or draw – something which Alex discovered she was remarkably apt at. The teen was most definitely not looking forward to tomorrow, when the woman would have to leave. He would miss their light banter and sharing past experiences on missions' with each other.

Alex was thinking about one particular night where he'd shared his times being tortured in Peru and KC had gone quiet and had withdrawn from the conversation, when a distinct screeching of tyres caught his attention, and he looked back outside. The black van pulling up into the car park, and the armed men clambering out the back, made Alex want to shoot himself to save them the bloody trouble. One week, could he not have _one week_ where _nothing_ whatsoever, happened? He couldn't rely on KC, she most likely wasn't actually at the school, she'd said she wanted to pack during the day and leave early the next morning, and the teen spy was really starting to regret his acceptance of her request.

He glanced at his class, who hadn't noticed anything, and went to raise his hand to ask to be excused, when a high pitched static buzz cleared over the intercom. Alex knew what was coming, and from the looks he saw around the teens, he wasn't the only one.

"Good morning students of Brookland School." It was a man's voice, rough and unaccented, yet Alex knew it was somehow familiar to him, "This is an important announcement for the sixth formers in room 12G." Alex mentally cursed, glancing at the number mounted on the inside, and outside, of the classroom door. A few whimpers escaped from a girl behind him, and Alex noted that the girl next to him had woken up, and was staring intently at the speaker in the corner.

"In a few minutes, some men will enter your room. Do not make a scene; they only want to take one of you. Rider? I know you're there, and I'll be seeing you shortly, I can assure you. If you do manage to stop us today, I have orders to track down and kill every single sixth former that was present two weeks ago when we unfortunately were unsuccessful in our attempt to capture you. That is all, have a wonderful day."

There was more static, then silence. Alex felt the stares of everyone burn into him again, even the teacher's, giving him identical looks that said 'Well, aren't you going to give yourself up?' Like hell he was. Scorpia agents had nothing on him; the spy could take down any of them within minutes. Only he heard the heavy footfall at first, then, as the sound drew closer, the other teens scrambled to the back of the classroom, as far away from the door as they could get. Alex stood, and unlatched the gun he had on him at all times, and aimed at the door, no emotion on his face at all. His attention was so focused on the door, that when it opened, and the first man stepped through, the fire extinguisher that knocked the soldier out surprised the spy enough to shoot the second man in such a way that he fell back and blocked the door. He spared the white-haired girl, who Alex vaguely registered was the sleeping girl from before, a respectful glance, that also said she was incredibly stupid for trying it.

"Get back before one of them shoots you." He felt bad that he couldn't remember her name at all. A commotion at the door, and bullet lodging itself in the window frame right next to his ear, made Alex slip into his instinctual 'mission' mode, dispatching soldier after soldier as they shoved their way into the room. There were nine of them, and once the last three entered the room, Alex ran out of bullets. The one day he forgot to bring spare ammo, so instead, he drew his knives, and dealt a swift slash tot eh throat to the first man, the teen's face blank and uncaring as he took yet more lives. The next few minutes saw the teen spy fighting the two trained assassins, at first with knives, then once he'd lost them, hand-to-hand. He felt his strength going after he downed one, and his recent injuries were complaining at the strain, his muscles aching with new bruises. He saw the man pulling out a gun as e felt his left knee give out.

Alex stared at the barrel, finding the energy to smirk at the man about to either knock him out or kill him, he wasn't sure. He met the man's cold brown eyes as they glinted with anger... then shock as they rose to look behind Alex. A shot echoed, and Alex thought for a second he was dead, but after no numbing pain, and the fact that the assassin was slowly slipping to the floor, a bullet hole between his eyes, the spy straightened out of his kneeling position to turn. The oriental girl (2) held the gun at her side, the weapon looking unnervingly comfortable in her grip, and Alex found himself staring at her. She'd killed that man in cold blood, not that he hadn't deserved it of course, but still. It shocked Alex that anyone who had no past experience with his lifestyle could just... kill someone with such an emotionless expression. The teen realised there must be something else behind this schoolgirl facade she wore, and Alex made a note to question her later. Then the whispers started, and the teen was once again reminded that he was still in a classroom full of cowering teens that most likely needed to have therapy... again. He sent the girl a look that said he wasn't letting this go anytime soon, and set about calling MI6, finding himself thinking about how messed up his life really was.

-AR-

For the third time in as many weeks, Alex found himself sat opposite Alan Blunt in the MI6 Special Operations HQ, pondering the real possibility of someone _up there_ hating him with a vengeance. Two attacks at his school, both of which MI6 couldn't manage to stop in any way, shape, or form, and yet again the Head and Deputy Head of SO were 'discussing with' (demanding) him to follow their orders on what to do, and say, now that Scorpia had tried again to capture the teen, and are now threatening to take action on his peers. The two had spent the last five minutes (after Alex told them about _everything_ that had happened – minus the teenage girl shooting the assassin, which Alex intended to confront himself), making arrangements for the MI5 Head and his Deputy to arrive as soon as they could to arrange the necessary forms and such concerning the incident. Alex felt as though he wasn't needed somehow, a feeling that was confirmed when Jones looked up from her papers and frowned at him.

"You're still here Alex? I thought you'd left long ago, never mind, we need you to stay put until we've sorted this out with MI5. I apologise again, I still can't comprehend how the van made it through our security team opposite the school, but we're looking into it currently."

Alex just nodded, falling into the role of 'obedient puppet' as he waited and watched the woman make phone call after phone call to the MI5 departments, trying not to look bored – which was difficult seeing as he was _bored_ – and attempt to run through possible scenarios the government would think to put into action. None of the ones the teen thought of were promising, and he began to dread the coming meeting, which of course, he would be attending as MI6 representative. He had been allowed to keep the MI6 commissioned iPhone with him, and received many from a rather concerned KC who'd heard about the attack from her superiors. Namely Jones, who had thought it best to inform her still recovering agent about her lapse in protection/babysitting duties. Alex excused himself from the room to call her, and felt marginally more confidant once he returned, having had some tension laughed away.

Twenty minutes later signalled the arrival of Carlow, Ellis and Alex's old 'friend', Crawley, each in smart suits which made the teen feel like some hobo off the street in his tee, combats and boots. The way to look respectable, teen style. Lucas and Alan began their trademark staring contest to decide who went first, and as Alex had come o learn, Blunt never blinked, so naturally, the man won and Jones started the conversation by briefing the MI5 personnel on the attack and Alex's role. The spy just zoned out, he couldn't help it, the stress – the work – _everything_ was finally getting to him, and for once in his teenage life, Alex Rider just could not be bothered to exchange his own views on the matter at hand, just nodding and voicing affirmatives whenever his subconscious realised a question was directed at him. To be honest, Alex knew he should have been listening, but...

The meeting continued, long enough for a tea break to be called, and Alex to have mentally run through his entire university course, alphabetically, and ponder ways in which to end Blunt's life, when two words caught in the teens mind, and Alex instantly snapped back into reality trying desperately to bring himself up to speed.

"Brecon Beacons seems like the best place to send them Alan, they'll be well protected, fed, looked after, and kept out of the way in a secure location while we sort out this whole mess. An added bonus, we can train them, test them, see if any are worthy agent material. I personally think it's an excellent idea. Agent Rider?" Head of MI5, Lucas Carlow, turned to said teen expectantly, and Alex belatedly realised he'd been siding with the MI5 agents for the entre conversation. Blunt was slightly pink in the neck, the only outwards sign of how angry he really was, and Alex hid his confusion and unease by saying the most stupid thing he was sure he'd ever said.

"I don't see why not." It was out before Alex's mental speech blocks could stop it, and the teen spy wished he could take them back. Now that he'd agreed, the lead agent of MI6, it would look terrible if Blunt refused the insight of their best, not when their 'brothers' in MI5 were also interested. His hand itched to reach for his gun and shoot himself for his idiocy. The only thing he could do was make a solemn oath to face-desk when he got home that night. If he ever got home, noting the time – half eleven _pm_. This was turning into one of the longest days of Alex's very short life.

"Excellent! Alan, start making arrangements for coaches, permission from the government officials and parents and of course, the SAS. They'll need to be notified, and I wish you luck with that one." Without so much as a farewell, the man was up and out, followed closely by Mrs. Ellis and Crawley. Blunt, for a man who'd just been given a rather... unwanted and difficult job to do, didn't snap, or break something (which is what Alex was pretty sure he'd personally do), instead – he calmly picked up the phone and made the calls. Alex took that as his cue to leave, and made an escape, after promising Jones he'd come back the next morning to 'talk' about what was said at the meeting. Alex took that to mean that Blunt would crack and smash a few things then instead of now, when the job was more important. And yet, as Alex drove home in one of the agency's complimentary (spare) cars, he couldn't help but think about what _he_ would do if his classmates were sent to Brecon Beacons. He didn't like the way this was going one bit.

-AR-

A shrill alarm woke the teen the next morning, along with the alluring aroma of cooking bacon, which was a sure fire way to get anyone, let alone a hungry teen, out of bed, even if it was half seven on a Saturday. Alex hastily pulled on some clean jeans and rushed down the stairs two at a time, his mind still a little clogged with sleep from the late night, and came to an abrupt halt once he reached the kitchen counter. KC eyed the bleary eyed teen as he all but bounced beside her, trying to peer over her shoulder at the partially cooked food. Alex could tell she refrained, mostly, from hitting him with the hot spatula she held in her right hand, and shooed him over to the table as she plated up the bacon and eggs.

"You, KC, are an angel. Even if you are rather short and have terrible social skills." Alex smiled impishly at her before the food on the table was practically inhaled. Anyone who could cook like that instantly went into the teen's good books, and he only vaguely noted the incredulous look the woman gave him as he excused himself, no more than a minute later, to get ready. It was obvious to Alex that the MI6 agent had recovered from her ordeal over the days she'd relaxed in the house reading the many novels Alex's uncle had deigned to collect, and the teen knew she'd be a friend for life – much like Agent Daniels, who occasionally stopped by the house to see (check up on) him.

The meeting with the heads was at ten and, Alex thought as he checked the clock above the kitchen cabinets, he had a good hour before he had to leave and attempt to understand how last night's meeting had ended with him agreeing to send his forty classmates to the literal hell on earth. Something the teen wasn't looking forward to in the least. As Alex was brought up with polite table manners, he stayed and chatted with his 'flatmate' as she ate, making a few rather unneeded (and unappreciated) height comments, which ended with the teen retreating to his room to change with cold egg running down his face. Women could be very touchy about their height. "_You learn something new every day"_ Alex thought as he swapped his jeans for some slightly smarter, soldier looking black combats (with his custom ammunition and other necessary items in the pockets), and pulled on an army green loose tee, and black jacket, before he clambered down the stairs to tie up his boots.

"Alex?" Said teen turned to the black haired woman in the doorway to the kitchen, her expression a mix of apprehension and a hint of sadness. He knew what she wanted to say, and just smiled as he gave her a mock salute as he stopped at the front door to grab his keys.

"It's been a pleasure having you KC; I'll see you around someday. If I'm not dead by then of course." The boxes were all packed, the spy had known she'd be leaving that morning while he was out, and while she was comfortable around him, he understood her wariness. It took a long time to get to know someone well enough in their profession to be 'friends' and it meant a lot to Alex that she was even saying goodbye at all. He'd met his fair share of uptight busybodies that wanted nothing to do with him. His words earned him a roll of the eyes and a wave, before she disappeared back round the door, and Alex stepped out onto his front steps, shoulders fighting to stay up and not slump with weariness.

As the teen slid into his car, and pushed the start engine button (which he still found amazingly awesome), the iPhone in his pocket started to buzz, and without even checking the caller ID, he switched it off. He knew it would be Jones asking him to hurry up and leave his house... which he _would_ be doing faster if _someone_ didn't keep calling him every few minutes for a status update. For a spy agency, they weren't very smart sometimes. The traffic was much thicker that time of day, and the teen struggled to go faster than twenty miles per hour at any point on his twenty minute journey, and the constant honking of horns and blaring music from 'cool' cars had the spy feeling worn out and tired even before he had the stressful meeting. Almost fifteen minutes later than planned, Alex pulled up into his personal space underground, and attempted to compose himself enough to be respectful and business looking as he slowly neared the conference room located three doors down from Blunt's main office.

Two bodyguard types waited on either side of the door, and confiscated his hip holstered gun, completely missing the knives hidden on his calf and back, and the teen made a mental note to have them retrained at a later date. They couldn't have such sloppy work when it came to the safety of the country's most important heads. The room was silent, tension thick in the air, as Alex stepped in and, without meeting anyone's eyes, took his usual seat in the back corner against the wall. He'd been told, ever since the first big meeting of the two agencies, that he was just a representative, and shouldn't sit around the table. Obviously, he was allowed to make points and express opinions, but he wasn't high enough in the food chain to be accepted, especially seeing as he wasn't even out of his teenage years yet. MI6 still had complaints from the government about using Alex, but they just ignored them.

As soon as the teen was seated, the conversation started again, as if he'd never been missing, and it was easy to catch up on what he'd not heard, noting the slight scowl on Blunt's face and the wary look in Jones' eyes. The argument must not be going in their favour then... which meant they were going to do it. They were actually going to send those forty sixth formers, most of which had no manners, were spoilt little brats, and had never been camping under tough conditions since the day they were born. Alex knew he'd have to go with them too, but he silently hoped they'd send him to a different facility for extra training while they were away. No chance.

Carlow had this smug little grin on his face as he signed some paperwork and dotted the I's, the colour drained from Mrs. Jones' face as Blunt pinched the bridge of his nose. Both flicked their eyes to Alex, and said teen started to fidget very slightly under the stares, as if he was to blame for this headache... Well, he was, but he hadn't _meant_ to agree to anything. Crawley was absent, most likely he was preparing the forms for parents to fill out and whatnot. Alex dreaded the look in the Head of MI5's eyes as he twisted to shoot that smile at him.

"Now that that's all settled, you Rider, will be accompanying the students to Brecon Beacons, where all of you will train for as long as we deemed necessary while we neutralize the threat. You will be having a few other agents assigned to protection duty with you, but otherwise, you'll have to make nice with the soldiers. You've been there several times, so that will be fine." His tone left little for Alex to argue with, and with a resigned nod, the spy sealed his fate.

"Good. I'll have a list of names for agents and SAS personnel sent to you immediately, along with files on the current Scorpia threats and other such details. Blunt, Jones, Rider." He nodded to each in turn, and then left, Mrs. Ellis trailing behind him like a lost puppy. Silence settled in the room once again, and Alex had the distinct feeling that Blunt was not the least bit happy with him, and the teen certainly didn't want to stick around to find out how unhappy the man was. He hurriedly made his excuse to leave, something about Smithers wanting him to drop in and assist him with his most recent gadget work, and departed as quickly as he physically could.

"Fuck it. Someone kill me, kill me now." Alex muttered darkly to himself as he wandered the halls in search of the overweight man, his mind lost in memories, most of them painful, of his time at Brecon Beacons over the last three years. Every time at least one soldier had decided Alex was a waste of space, and each time he'd had to deal with the jeering, the bullying without so much as ;lifting a finger to the other man. He knew MI6 would suspend him if he went out of line, and as much as he wanted to show the soldier's where they could shove it, he'd had to restrain himself.

Luckily, K-Unit never seemed to be there, always off on some mission or another for the SAS, so the teen hadn't had to deal with them and their new member for at least a year. Though they'd stopped hating each other, the friendship was a rocky one, and anything Wolf said was through his teeth, as if he still couldn't accept the teen. Alex didn't care, couldn't care. He just hoped they wouldn't be there when he went in three days time... with a bunch of his classmates. If they'd hated it when it was _just_ him, how much were they going to beat the shit out of him for bringing along a bunch of idiot teenagers. The spy stopped outside Smither's office and swore for the second time in five minutes.

As he knocked, the teen set his shoulders straight and let out a deep breath, calming enough to accept the inevitable. He glanced out the large window to his left, eyes narrowed at the London cityscape and dark clouds gathering above.

"_Brecon Beacons, this time, I'm bringing my _own_ hell."_

-AR-

(1) – I really liked this OC that... sent in, and I'm definitely including your character even if I get a better one ^^ Hope you like how I've put her in and how I've portrayed her, if you don't just PM me and we'll talk.

(2) – 2nd OC that I've really liked and want to include by... thanks for the lovely character! Any questions/complaints about my use of her, just PM me!

(PS – look people! If you give me OCs, look at how nicely they'll be included!)

A/N – YAY! That chapter took aaaaaages to write you know. It's taken a lot of effort to get back into the story after so long, and I hope it doesn't sound crap. I've been in a weird writing mood lately and I'm pretty sure most of this sounds like I was either half asleep or high on caffeine while I typed. This is untrue. I'm just rambling now, anyway. Please review, and send me your OC applications! Still up for grabs in the fic are Wolf, Eagle, Sixth former OCs, SAS OCs, Yassen, Snake, MI6 OCs – but I've some great OCs for Snake and Yassen already, but I'm still undecided! So pm/review me with them and keep reading!

Daxy

xx


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